


Returning

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Family, Fluff, M/M, Some angst, Starting Over, tiny bit of Tony and Rhodey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:46:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4763822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve Rogers' life falls apart in New York, he has no choice but to go home to the small town he grew up in. Things seem grim at first but a chance encounter with a friend from his past might just change things for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Returning

Steve jolted awake as the bus hit a particularly nasty pothole in the road and he knew he was getting close to home. That pothole had been there forever. His first car had blown a tyre hitting that pothole wrong. No-one had ever fixed it; it was a part of the town. A really _stupid_ part in Steve's opinion.

He stretched in his seat, something in his neck pinging painfully as he did and he glanced out of the window. Sure enough, there was the Barton farm just on the outskirts of town as it had been for as long as he'd been alive - the corn stalks tall and swaying gently in the autumn breeze. Steve was hit with a pang of nostalgia; Indian summers had always come to Logansville as far back as he could remember and the hazy afternoon sun brought back memories of lemonade and tree houses and ant bites. The farm receded and he rested his head back on his seat, watching as the sparsely spaced houses slowly formed the small town he'd grown up in.

Logansville had been a great place to live. Everybody knew everybody. They had bake sales and town pot-luck dinners. The main street was called Main Street. It was the ultimate clichéd American Small Town and Steve had loved every second he spent here as a child. But now...now as he saw the pancake house and the church he used to attend with his mom and Stark's Hardware, drawing closer to home, he realized just how much he'd been dreading coming back. Because when he had left, everyone had been so proud of his move to the city to attend college and the job he got afterwards and now he was returning as a failure. The humiliation was almost too much for him but he had nowhere else to go.

Steve scrubbed at his face as the bus pulled into the tiny bus station. He was two hours earlier than he told his mom he would be and he almost considered calling her to come and pick him up but then decided he wanted to walk home instead. He hadn't been back in Logansville for almost nine years and he wanted to take it in, even if he didn't know what he'd tell people if they asked how he was or why he was back.

The driver was piling bags on the sidewalk as Steve stepped down off of the bus. "End of the line, folks. Logansville, right here."

Steve slung his backpack over one shoulder and picked up his two sports bags. They contained everything he had left of his life in New York. The shame stung him again but he pushed it down and started to head off towards Elk Street.

Towards home.

***

Logansville hadn't changed much over the years and Steve was glad to see it. He was traditional at heart and while he'd enjoyed living in New York at first, he had missed the comfort and warmth that being in a smaller town could bring. He ambled down familiar streets, remembering who lived where, not running into anyone for which he was thankful for. There would be plenty of time for catching up. He would be surprised if someone hadn't already seen him and half the town knew he was back already.

He turned onto Liberty Street. _His_ street. That had been fun growing up; born on the fourth of July and living on Liberty Street. He looked over to the Richards' house. He wondered why he couldn't see any bikes or toys on the lawn and flinched when he realized that Franklin would be sixteen by now. He shook his head and carried on and a few more doors down was his own house. Well, his mom's house really. It still looked the same. She'd had it painted that summer and it looked neat and new and his heart twisted. The Barnes' house next door looked the same too. They still had that stupid stone dog on the front lawn.

Steve took a deep breath and climbed the porch steps. He considered just walking in but it didn't feel right. He didn't know why he was so nervous; he had spoken to his mom nearly every other day the whole time he had been in New York; she had come to visit often and they had spent every Christmas in Iowa with his aunt. They were still very close, even if he hadn't been home for years. There was no reason for Steve to feel so anxious. He knocked on the door.

"Just a sec!" his mom's voice sing-songed from the kitchen. Steve immediately felt his eyes well up.

The front door opened and Sarah Rogers, who had managed to never look a day over forty in his humble opinion, froze.

Steve managed a tight smile. "Hi, Mom."

"Stevie, oh my god!" Sarah flung herself through the door and hugged him so hard he thought they were both going to tumble down the front steps. "It's so good to see you. I thought you didn't get in until eight." She pulled away and scanned his face, her eyes warm and excited.

"I managed to get an earlier bus," he said. He could smell chicken casserole coming from the house. His favorite.

Sarah hit him on the arm playfully. "You should have called. I would have picked you up from the bus station."

Steve shrugged. "I wanted to walk. It's so good to see you, Mom." He pulled her in again and she stroked his hair.

"I'm so happy you're here," she said softly. They pulled apart and smiled at each other, a little sad around the edges. Sarah glanced down at his three bags. "Is this all you brought back with you?"

Steve's face finally crumpled and he couldn't hold back any longer. "I lost everything, Mom."

Sarah's face fell with his and she ushered him into the house, pulling his bags in behind her. As soon as the front door was closed, Steve let out all the tears he'd been holding in for the last year and let his mom comfort him.

***

Sarah passed Steve some more bread. "Come on, eat up. You've lost weight. Lose any more and you'll look like a damn scarecrow, tall as you are."

Steve shook his head. "Always trying to feed me," he grumbled but took another mouthful and smiled at her, genuine this time. He felt a little better after having had a good cry in his mother's arms. Twenty-seven years old and with nothing to his name, yet one vice-like hug from Sarah Rogers could make him feel like everything would maybe be alright again. In time.

Sarah took another sip of her wine and rested her head on her hand. "I know it's been rough but it's so good to have you home. This is just a stop gap before you get back on your feet again. Things will work out."

Steve sighed and tapped his fork against his plate. They'd had these plates forever. "At the moment it doesn't feel like it."

"You should have let me help. You could have paid for a better lawyer - "

"Matt was a great lawyer, Mom; he did everything he could." He didn't want to have this argument again, not now.

" - I have money put aside for you, you could have used it to -

"Mom, it wouldn't have made a difference!" Steve said with more force than he meant to. "They would have taken everything - the house, everything. I couldn't do that to you. It's done now so could we please just drop it?"

Sarah's mouth drew into a tight line and she nodded. "Fine."

Steve huffed out a tired breath. His voice was softer when he spoke again. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to...to go through all of this again. It's over and I just want to get on with my life. I appreciate it so much that you're letting me live here again..."

"Oh Stevie, I'm not _letting_ you live here - this is your home." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "This will always be your home."

Steve leaned over and kissed his mom's hand. "I love you, Mom."

Sarah grinned; one thing about is mom that he loved more than anything - she never let harsh words or hurt feelings last longer than they had to. She messed up his hair with both hands. "Love you too."

"Hey, not the hair." He tried his best to smooth it back down but he was grinning.

Sarah poured them both some more wine. "Come on. Let's get smashed."

Steve laughed and it almost felt alien to him. He hadn't laughed for a long time. "Great way for a lady to be carrying on. What would the neighbors think?"

"I don't give a flying fart what the neighbors think," Sarah said and Steve laughed again.

He held up his glass and tried to be positive. He didn't feel positive but he wanted to be strong for his mom. "To a new beginning."

***

After the dishes had been done, both of them a little giggly from the wine, Sarah carried Steve's bags up to his room, ignoring his protests that he could do it himself. She turned on the lamps and he followed her in. There was a new bed and the walls had been repainted but it was still his room; some of his favorite childhood books were up on the shelves and his mom had kept and framed all of his old school certificates and his diplomas. He walked over to the space on the wall where they were hung as Sarah shoved opened the window to let the cool night air in.

"I meant to do this earlier," she mumbled.

Steve smiled when he saw one of the awards. "You framed my science fair certificate? Really?"

"What? It was one of your achievements. I was so proud."

"Mom, it's an Honorable Mention. My project was terrible and everyone who participated in the fair got one of these. They only handed them out so the people who didn't win anything wouldn't feel like losers, except if you got one of these, you were even _more_ of a loser."

"Well, I was still proud. I thought your bird project was lovely. Those judges were full of crap. Who won that year, anyway?"

Steve walked over to the bed and started to pull his clothes out of his bag. "Tony Stark. He won every year."

Sarah hummed. "It was a shame about Howard. He wasn't even that old. Same age as me."

"I sent Tony a card but I never heard from him."

Sarah stood up and stretched. "Well, he's back in town. Took over his dad's store."

Steve looked up at her, surprised. "Really?"

"Yep. He was living in L.A but I remember hearing that he wasn't doing so well. He came back after Howard died. I have no idea why he decided to try and run the shop."

Steve snorted. "He's probably sticking it to his old man; one last _screw you_ or something. They hated each other's guts back in high school. I'm assuming that never changed."

Sarah hummed in agreement and then rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I'm heading to bed, Stevie. There are fresh towels in the bathroom and I bought you shower gel and shampoo and a pack of disposable razors."

Steve hugged her again, so grateful for this woman who would do anything for him that he couldn't even quantify it. "Thanks, Mom. You don't know how much I appreciate this."

Sarah kissed him on the cheek. "I think I do. Goodnight, honey."

"Goodnight," Steve said.

When his bedroom door was closed, he sat down on his bed and listened. He heard the distant rumble of a train crossing the old bridge on the other side of town. The occasional bark of a dog in the distance. It would take him a while to get used to the quiet again, the hectic sounds of the city almost more comforting to him now. Crickets were chirping outside and he could guarantee that if he left his window open all night, one would be in his room by morning and bugging the hell out of him. He walked across to the window and looked outside. The moon was full and bright and he could make out most of the backyard; the treehouse was still there in the old apple tree and he couldn't help but smile to himself. Sarah had been threatening to take it down for years but she never did. She knew how much he still loved that old treehouse. He closed the window and put away his clothes in the old oak dresser that his father had made before Steve had been born.

He climbed into bed and switched off the lamp. As he lay staring up at the ceiling, he wondered what the hell he was going to do with his life now.

***

Steve blinked awake, momentarily forgetting where he was and panicked, almost leaping to his feet but then he saw the sunlight streaming through the window in that familiar way he'd seen hundreds of times growing up and he sank back against his pillows with relief. He could hear his mom downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast. He rolled over and picked up his phone. 7:20am. He'd forgotten that it was only Tuesday and Sarah still had work. She had worked at the First Logansville Bank for as long as he could remember and enjoyed it immensely, knowing all of the customers by name. She should have been manager by now and Steve often asked her why she wasn't. Sarah maintained that she was happy with the amount of responsibility she had and didn't have it in her to oversee everyone else and tell them what to do.

Steve rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and got out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He padded downstairs and through to the kitchen. Sarah looked up from her toast and fruit and smiled.

"Stevie, you don't have to be up. I think you can sleep in for a day or two." She made to stand up, no doubt to make him something but he waved her back down and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Nah, I'm up now. I thought I'd wander around town today. Anything drastically different that I should know about?"

Sarah snorted. "Same old shit. You know this place."

Steve shook his head. "I'm sure you never had this much of a potty mouth before..."

"Oh, I did. I just held back as much as I could. I did my best to raise you without any of my bad habits. I think I did okay."

Steve smiled and took a sip of coffee. "Yeah, you rated at least a 6 out of 10." He laughed when Sarah threw a blueberry at him. They sat and chatted for fifteen minutes and then Sarah got ready for work.

"I'll be home around five forty-five. There's a pot roast in the fridge all ready to go - could you put it in the oven for me at about three o'clock?"

Steve set an alarm on his phone to remind himself. "Done and done."

"Thanks, hon. Take it easy today. Try and have a few days at least to rest and get your head together before thinking about anything else, okay?"

"I'll try," Steve said, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to.

***

When Sarah had left, the sound of her old Toyota Camry chugging down the street, Steve took a long shower. Afterwards, he dressed in a green plaid shirt and jeans and decided to head out and explore Logansville to see just how much had changed. He walked his old route to the high school, simultaneously happy and sad to see familiar sights. There were a few new houses built on what had once been vacant lots where groups of kids could almost always have been found in clusters, playing baseball or touch football.

Logansville High School (Go Wolverines!) still looked the same, albeit a little smaller now. Steve had enjoyed high school; he hadn't been wildly popular but he hadn't been an outcast either and he had been well liked by his teachers. He was so absorbed in trying to figure out which windows corresponded to which classrooms that he didn't hear someone approaching.

"You know what, I thought to myself: "That looks like Steven Rogers" and what do you know, I was right."

Steve jumped slightly and looked up at the person next to him, his face breaking out in a huge smile. "Oh my god, Dr Erskine. Hi!" He held out his hand and they shook.

Dr Erskine had been Steve's favorite teacher; he had taught science and philosophy and had been a lot of fun. He never spoke down to anyone, had been patient but stern when he needed to be but the kids had all loved him. You'd have been hard pressed to find a student that didn't like him. He pretty much looked the same; his hair was a little greyer and there were more lines around his eyes but he still had the same wire-rimmed glasses and even though it was still quite warm out, was wearing a suit.

"It's good to see you, Steven. How are things?" His German accent was still there, very soft but noticeable. Steve had always liked it.

Steve folded his arms and ducked his head. "Not great to be honest but I'm trying to get things together."

Dr Erskine looked concerned. "Nothing serious, I hope? Your mother is alright?"

"Oh, Mom's fine. Better than fine. I just had some stuff happen and I need to...reassess my situation. Things didn't work out for me in New York and..." He stopped, suddenly embarrassed and a little ashamed. He didn't want Dr Erskine to be disappointed in him. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound so negative or cryptic."

Dr Erskine didn't look disappointed though; he just looked understanding. "Don't apologize. Life happens and sometimes we need to take a step back and see if where we're heading is where we actually want to go. It's that kind of circumstance, perhaps?"

Steve smiled. "Pretty much. You were always able to do that in school - know what made people tick and how they were thinking. That's what made you my favorite teacher, you know."

Dr Erskine laughed and held his hands up. "You flatter me, Steven. But I always enjoyed what I did and I like to think you kids did too."

"Are you still teaching?"

"Oh yes; I'll be teaching until they drag me out of this place kicking and screaming. In German, most likely." He waved a hand at the school. "I almost wasn't going to go out for my lunch but I'm glad I did otherwise I may have missed running into you. It's good to see you back in town."

Steve's smile finally slipped and he stared at the ground. "It doesn't feel very good," he said quietly. "I feel like I've let everyone down."

Dr Erskine folded his arms and gave Steve a contemplative stare. "Now, I'm certain to the people that matter, this is not the case. You were always so hard on yourself in class, always thinking that your grades were not good enough, that you weren't trying hard enough, when in actual fact you were one of the hardest working students I ever had the pleasure of teaching. You feel like you've failed and now you're back at square one; it happens to the best of us. The best _you_ can do right now is take from your experiences only the parts you want to learn from and build on and start afresh. Shape your life a different way. This doesn't have to be the end of the line, Steven. There is no shame in coming home."

Steve couldn't have been happier that he'd chosen to walk the way he had this morning. Speaking to Dr Erskine was what he had needed. It was all true - this was only the end if Steve chose for it to be.

"I have to say, you're wasted as a teacher. Have you ever thought about going into motivational speaking instead?" Steve said with a little smile.

Dr Erskine laughed and took off his glasses, rubbing the lenses on his jacket. "Being a teacher is very much like being a motivational speaker. I just don't earn as much money doing it." He glanced at his watch. "I'm very sorry but I have to be going. Don't be a stranger. Stop by and keep me company on my lunch breaks if you're free."

Steve shook his hand again. "I might take you up on that. Thank you, Dr Erskine. You've put things into perspective for me a little."

"You'll figure things out. _Aller anfang ist schwer_." He started off towards the school.

Steve grinned after him. "What does that mean?"

Dr Erskine turned as he walked. "We have a fine library here in town, Steven. Look it up. Failing that, you can always cheat and use the internet."

Steve laughed and he felt better than he had for a long time.

 ***                

His good mood didn't last, though.

Steve finally decided to cut through the park and into the centre of town. It was more than likely that he would run into familiar people there but it was inevitable and he wouldn't be able to avoid them forever. Almost as soon as he walked down Main Street, he bumped into three people he knew. Everyone seemed happy to see him and didn't pry into why he was back for the long term; they were just delighted at how good he looked (he'd looked better) and hoped that they'd seem him again soon. He treated himself to a burger and milkshake in the town's one burger place for lunch and then started to head back home.

He had just turned the corner onto Crescent Avenue when he heard a laugh of disbelief behind him. "Oh, you're kidding me. Steve Fucking Rogers." Steve knew that voice and it still grated on him slightly. He steeled himself and turned with a smile on his face.

"Hi Tony," Steve said and couldn't help but notice that he looked awful. Tony Stark had always been one of the most popular kids in school; good-looking and smart but also slightly arrogant with it. He and Steve hadn't been good friends but their various social circles had often mixed at football games or dances. Tony had also been very vain, hair always styled to perfection and always wearing the most designer of designer clothes. But he had lost a ton of weight and his hair was long and greasy and he had huge dark circles under his eyes. Contrary to the venomous nature of his relationship with his father, Howard's death had hit him hard.

"What the fuck are you doing back here? New York a little too much for you?"

Steve bristled. Tony had always known how to push Steve's buttons and it seemed like nothing had changed there. "Things didn't work out. I'm just getting my head together for a little while, staying with my mom."

Tony snorted. "Wow, it must have been bad to make you come crawling back to this dump."

Steve didn't rise to the bait. "I was sorry to hear about your father."

Tony's face folded into a bitter scowl. "Yeah, everyone's sorry. Guy was an asshole but he gets treated like a saint. Shame nobody knew him like I did then maybe everyone wouldn't be so _sorry_. I hate this fucking town."

Steve wasn't sure what to say; the Tony in front of him wasn't the Tony he had known at school. The good-humored arrogance was gone and now there was something bitter and resentful in it's place. "Why did you come back then if you hate it so much? I thought you were living the high-life in L.A."

"Because, Rogers, sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to do and my old man made sure that he'd get the last laugh before he bit the dust and hit me where it hurt."

Steve had no idea what he was talking about and he didn't want to; he would only make Tony even angrier than he already seemed to be. "Well, I hope things work out for you."

Tony laughed but it was flat and weary. "No-one can work out anything here. This town is full of losers. Losers stay here and losers come back." He stepped forward and swept a hand in Steve's direction. "Case in point."

Steve smelled the alcohol on Tony's breath and things fell into place a little - why he looked so bad, why he was being so hostile - but it still made Steve angry. He hadn't done anything to Tony and neither had anyone else. "I like this town."

Tony barked out another harsh laugh. "This place is a graveyard. Everyone here is dying a slow death, too scared to go out into the real world and do something fucking worthwhile."

Steve frowned. "That's a horrible thing to say. There are good people in this town. Better than most out in the _real world_." There was no need to belittle decent human beings just because they wanted to live in a place like Logansville.

Tony smirked. "Yeah, whatever. Welcome back, Rogers. You're one of the living dead now too."

Steve decided he'd had enough and rather than let Tony goad him into something, thought it best to walk away. "See you around, Stark." He turned his back on Tony and started to head off towards Elk Street.

"Enjoy being a loser, Rogers. You're in the right place," Tony shouted after him.

Steve's mood descended the closer he got to home and by the time he put the pot roast in the oven, he was as low as he'd been the day before. He tried to hang on to what Dr Erskine had told him but his run in with Tony had knocked him back. He knew that Tony had been drunk and was going through a rough time of it but his bitterness had hurt Steve and all he could think about now was everything that had happened to him in New York and how he had to start all over again.

Sarah knew that something had happened when she got in from work but she just gave Steve some space and didn't ask him about it and they ate dinner together that evening, quiet and gloomy.

"Steve, is everything okay?" Sarah asked before she went up to bed. Steve was curled up on the couch watching re-runs of Quantum Leap.

"Just a little down," Steve said quietly and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'll be okay."

Sarah leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?"

Steve held her hand for a moment. "I know, Mom." She squeezed his hand gently before letting go and went upstairs, closing her bedroom door gently behind her.

He stayed up until the early hours, his mind a mess of emotions that he didn't know what to do with.

***

Steve stayed in bed for most of the next day. He had slipped into a deep funk and didn't want to do anything or see anyone. Tony had been right about one thing: He was a loser.

Sarah was concerned but left him alone, deciding to be the Understanding Mom for a day or two before she had to bring out the big guns. Steve had gone through a rough time of it in the last year and she was willing to let him feel sorry for himself a little longer before enough was enough.

Steve dragged himself out of bed for dinner, making small talk with Sarah before doing the dishes and slinking back off to bed. He woke up at 1am and crept downstairs to watch TV - there was a marathon of old Godzilla movies on TCM and he lay on the couch blinking groggily as King Ghidorah, Mothra, Hedorah and Mechagodzilla all fought with the eponymous giant monster. At dawn, just before his mom got up for work, he went back up to bed and pulled the blankets over his head and slept through until dinner.

Steve did this on Thursday too and by Friday, Sarah decided that he'd had more than enough time to wallow. The day was cold and crisp; late September had finally caught up with itself and the Indian Summer was over. She marched into his room at 6:45am and yanked the covers clear off of his bed.

Steve was just dressed in a pair of boxers and he shrieked, half from the cold, half from embarrassment. "Mom, what the f - !" he cried out, his voice croaky and a little petulant. He tried to snatch the blankets back from her.

Sarah tossed the bed covers out into the hallway. "Steven Grant Rogers, get the hell up. No more of this. The garage needs cleaning, the lawn in the backyard needs mowing and you're cooking dinner tonight. You'd better get started." Then she left the room and went downstairs.

Steve rubbed his eyes and sat up, shivering in the center of his bed. She was right. He couldn't do this forever. Self-pity had never gone down well in the Rogers family and he'd done more than enough of that. Things had been bad but he was still here. He needed to pull himself together; dwelling on the past would only make things worse. He thought about everything Dr Erskine had told him and how supportive his mom was and took a deep breath. _Come on,_ _Rogers_ _. The world is still spinning._

He sniffed under his arms and winced. He hadn't washed in three days and he reeked. After a very hot shower, he found an older pair of jeans to wear for a day of cleaning and pulled a thick hoodie over his t-shirt. Sarah didn't even look up at him from her Kindle as he walked into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and a bagel and he missed the triumphant little smirk she gave herself behind his back.

"So how bad is the garage?" he asked, leaning against the sink and warming his hands on his mug.

"Pretty bad," Sarah said. "I haven't been able to get the car in there for at least...two years?"

Steve groaned. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"Yep."

Steve shook his head and mumbled something as he grabbed some garbage bags from the cupboard.

"You'll know what needs to be thrown away. Anything you're not sure of, leave to one side and I'll go through it later."

"Whatever you say, boss." Steve headed outside and breathed in the cold air. It felt good. He looked around at the street he'd grown up on for a moment. Someone had cut the Barnes' lawn while he had been sleeping for the last few days and it was neat and even; the stone dog (a Great Dane? Steve had never thought to ask) looked proud. He turned and opened the garage door, the high-pitched squeal of rusty metal made him clench his teeth. He stared in disbelief at the piles of recycling, boxes, old garden furniture and God knows what else, stacked as tall as he was, wall to wall.

"Ugh. Really, Mom?" he said to himself but got to work.

***

When Sarah came out of the house at 8am, ready for work, Steve had piled everything that could be taken to the recycling center on the driveway in front of the car. There had to be at least a year's worth of old newspapers in there.

"I never would have taken you to be a hoarder," Steve called as he heaved a box of glass bottles out onto the driveway. "I'm not going to find bags full of rotten apple cores that you couldn't bear to throw away or anything like that, am I?"

Sarah opened the car door and put her purse on the passenger's seat then walked around to stand with him and looked into the garage. "Har de har. I just haven't had the time to do anything in here. It'll be nice to actually get the car inside during the winter. Okay, I should be home by five forty-five. Have fun."

Steve grabbed her by the sleeve before she could get in the car and pulled her into a tight hug. "Thanks," he said softly.

Sarah rubbed his back. "You're welcome."

***

Steve finished cleaning the garage at noon. There were at least four car trips worth of recycling and nine trash bags worth of crap that he was sure the garbage men would be baffled over when they came to collect next week. Out of the six lawn chairs that had been piled in there, only two were salvageable and there were three old rusty barbeques in there too. There were several large boxes worth of odds and ends for his mom to sort through.

Steve made himself a huge sandwich and ate an entire family-sized bag of chips for lunch before heading out to the backyard to mow the lawn. It took him a couple of hours but he surveyed his handiwork proudly when it was done, the smell of cut grass reminding him of childhood summers.

He decided to make Szechuan Beef for dinner and as he prepped all of the ingredients to cook later, started to think about what he could do going forward. He had a few options; he just had to decide if they were options he wanted to follow.

When Sarah came home that evening, Steve had dinner ready and there was a large bunch of tulips from the garden in Sarah's favorite vase on the table.

"Your dad gave me this when he proposed to me. He couldn't afford a ring so he bought this vase and stole a bunch of roses from his neighbor's garden." She smiled fondly at the memory. Joseph Rogers had died when Steve was three from a heart attack and his mom had never remarried. Joe had been the love of her life and too young to die at thirty-four. Sarah had been seven years his junior and had raised Steve on her own.

Steve smiled. "I remember that story. Look, I found this too." He produced a photograph in a pine frame. He had wiped away the grime on the glass and polished the wood.

She took the framed photo from him and gasped. "I've been looking for this everywhere," she said.

"That's what you get for not cleaning up after yourself," Steve said but stood next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

The photo had been taken when Joe had served in Vietnam. He had been very young when he was drafted - just nineteen, two years before the war had ended. He was smiling with the other men in his unit. Steve had never seen the picture before and had been stunned when he found it; he knew that his dad had served, Sarah had told him, but seeing the photo had really brought it home for him.

"God, you look so much like him," Sarah said softly. Steve had Joe's blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He was tall like Joe too. "You have the same smile."

There were three other guys with Joe in the photograph. It must have been taken when they had just shipped out because none of them looked haunted yet. His dad had always looked tired and sad in the photos taken of him after he got back.

"Did you know any of the other men in his unit?" Steve asked.

Sarah shook her head. "I only ever met Tim Dugan," she pointed to a large, cheerful looking guy with a crew cut, "but I never got to meet any of the others. Jim Morita was killed in action and Gabe Jones stayed in Asia. Married a Thai girl, I think. Joe talked about them a lot."

Steve stared at his father in the photograph. "I remember his hands. Holding me and tucking me into bed."

Sarah smiled. "He always tucked you in. He loved you so much."

Steve stared down at the photograph. He wished he could have known his father. Did they share the same traits? Would Joe have handled what Steve had gone through in New York the same way? He clenched his jaw; he didn't think so.

Sarah kissed Steve on the cheek. "Thanks for finding this." She blew her nose on a tissue and put the picture down on the kitchen table, sitting as Steve started to spoon rice onto her plate. "He would be so proud of you. All he wanted was for you to become a good man."

Steve sat down and sighed. "Yeah, I'm not sure he would be so proud of me right now."

"Stevie, throughout all that crap in New York, you stuck to your guns. You never gave in and you did the right thing. He would be proud, believe me."

He wanted more than anything to believe that he'd made the right choice, often wondering if things would have been better had he said nothing at all and set in motion everything that had come since. But he knew that he couldn't have just done nothing. Even though his life was a wreck, at least he had stood by his own good conscience and morals. He hoped more than anything that his dad would have been proud.

Steve sighed. "So how was work?"

***

By 8pm, Steve was nodding off as he and Sarah watched Goodfellas. He stretched and heaved himself to his feet.

"I'm beat. Think I'm going to go to bed."

"Lightweight," Sarah answered. "Joe Pesci hasn't even done his "Funny Ha Ha" speech yet."

"Well, maybe if some crazy woman hadn't come barging into my room at the crack of dawn to make me clean out Satan's Garage, I'd be able to watch the rest of the movie."

Sarah laughed. "I like the sound of this crazy woman. If you see her, tell her I admire her work."

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and headed for the stairs. "She's not half as funny as she thinks she is," he called back and smiled to himself when Sarah laughed again.

***

He woke up out of a dream that he couldn't remember but that left him feeling uneasy as he lay watching the shadows from the apple tree outside moving on his ceiling. Steve turned and looked at the time on his phone. It was only 1am. He groaned because he felt wide awake and knew that he had totally screwed up his sleep cycle with his recent few days of hiding away in bed. He figured he may as well get up and read or watch TV for a little while rather than lay there and let his brain start to think about things he didn't want to think about.

Steve padded downstairs as quietly as he could and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As he stood at the sink drinking, he glanced outside. He was suddenly overcome by the desire to go and sit in his treehouse. He wasn't even sure why but before he could think any better, he was slipping on his sneakers and grabbing the fleece blanket from his mom's favorite window seat before opening the back door into the yard.

The night was clear but cold, a sharp breeze blowing through the trees. It was so _quiet_. Steve walked across the lawn and wrapped the blanket around himself, glad that he'd also worn a t-shirt and a pair of sweats to bed. He carefully climbed the planks nailed to the tree trunk and hoped that none of the wood was rotten; the last thing he needed was to fall and break an ankle and try to explain what he'd been doing up a tree in the middle of the night.

The wood held and he crawled into the treehouse. It felt so small; it used to feel huge to him. It had four walls with two windows on opposite sides, a doorway and a little sloped roof. Steve scooted over to the far corner and sat huddled in his blanket, hoping that there weren't any spiders in here. He could hardly see a thing in there anyhow. He chuffed at himself; what the fuck was he doing? This isn't what he'd imagined himself doing at twenty-seven years old - sitting in a damn treehouse and sulking over his mess of a life.

He was about to move and scooch over to the doorway to climb back down when he heard a noise outside. It sounded like it had come from the base of the apple tree. Steve froze and listened. There was silence and then it came again: A heavy shuffling. _Probably just a raccoon or something_ , he thought, trying not to let himself get too scared. This was his backyard, what was there to be scared of -

Someone was climbing up the planks outside. Steve's stomach dropped and he pressed himself into the corner, unable to contain his fear, looking around wildly. It was too late to try and climb out through one of the windows and he probably _would_ break an ankle if he attempted to jump out in the dark. He had no idea what to do.

He swallowed thickly and blurted out, "This treehouse is occupied!"

The noise outside stopped abruptly and there was a heavy, unbearable silence. Steve was considering whether or not to start shouting for his mom (not his finest moment) when an amused and bewildered voice drifted up from outside.

"Is that...holy shit, is that Steve Rogers?"

Steve frowned in concentration as he tried to place the familiar voice and then his body slumped against the wooden wall in relief. " _Bucky_?"

There was a delighted laugh and hurried scrambling as someone climbed up the planks. A head and shoulders, silhouetted against the night sky appeared in the doorway and then a light shone directly in Steve's eyes. A flashlight from a cell phone. "Oh my God, it IS you!"

Steve held up a hand to shield his face. "Jeez, I kind of like being able to see. Think you could turn that down or something?"

The person laughed again and heaved themselves into the treehouse. He fiddled with the phone's setting, taking the flashlight down a notch and Steve couldn't believe it. It really was Bucky.

The Barnes family had moved into the house next door to his at pretty much the same time as Sarah and Joe had relocated to the neighborhood and although Bucky had been two years older than him, he and Steve had been friends for most of their childhood years. Bucky had gone to school over in West McCoy but they had spent most weekends and weekday afternoons playing together. When he was fifteen, Bucky had been sent away to boarding school in Indiana when Mr. Barnes had gotten a well-paid new job and decided that Bucky and his sister Rebecca would get the best education he could afford. Steve had been crushed at the time and while they had made promises to write and visit, it never really happened. Steve had seen him on and off on the rare occasions he had come home but the Barnes family had spent more and more time away until they had finally just moved and put their house up for rent. He remembered his mom telling him sometime in the last year that Mr. and Mrs. Barnes had gotten divorced and Winnie was now living back next door. He had barely given Bucky a thought at the time.

Steve had eventually just carried on with his life; school kept him busy and he had enough friends that weekends were full and as the years went on, Bucky had just become some kid he used to live next door to and play with. Looking at him now, in the glow of his cell phone, he could see the scrappy, wily boy that would cajole him into adventures.

"What - what the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asked, still slightly flummoxed.

Bucky laughed. "That's all you have to say? I haven't seen you in fourteen years! Look at you - you're huge!"

Steve finally laughed back and shook his head. "This is so weird. How are you?"

"Fine, just...I didn't know you were back. It's been...it's been a really long time, Steve." Bucky's voice had softened but he was still smiling fondly. "Guess we never got around to staying in touch, huh?"

Steve sighed. "I know. I'm sorry..."

Bucky held up a hand. "Hey, you and me both. I'm not mad or anything - life kind of got in the way."

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "God, it's good to see you. Strange, considering the circumstances." He indicated to the tree house.

Bucky laughed again - Steve was suddenly filled with nostalgia for that laugh - and crawled over to sit next to him. "Yeah, I can totally explain." He paused. "No, I can't. I just came outside for a smoke and thought _I wanna climb up into Steve Rogers's apple tree_."

Steve chuckled. "Me too. Couldn't sleep."

Bucky was still looking at him with a grin. "Sorry to stare, it's just that you look so _different_ but you still look like you."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Didn't they have puberty in Indiana? I know I was a couple of years behind you and I hit it late but surely it's not that strange."

"Okay, smart-ass," Bucky said and he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. "Do you mind? I keep meaning to quit but then I get stressed to shit and it goes straight out of the window."

Steve shook his head. "Go for it. So what have you been up to? Why are you back?"

"Fuck, I don't even know where to begin." Bucky took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out of the small window. " Fourteen years is a huge gap of time to try and fill someone in on. Short version: Finished school, went to college and did a Masters in Mechanical Engineering, got a job, hated it, went through some shit, decided to take some time out to think about what I really wanted. Got back into town yesterday."

"Sounds kind of familiar."

"Oh yeah?"

Steve nodded. "Finished school, moved to New York, did a degree in accounting of all things, got a job, went through some...shit, taking some time to reprioritize my life." Steve kept his tone neutral but he could see that Bucky had picked up on the fact that something serious had gone down.

"Shit kind of sucks, doesn't it?" he said and rested his head against the rough planks behind him, blowing lazy plumes of smoke out through his nose, his face dimly illuminated by his phone which rested between them.

"Yeah, it does," Steve replied softly. "Have you got yours together at all?"

Bucky hummed. "Yeah, kind of. Although I'm still at the stage where I'm not sure if I've made the right decision or not. Story of my fucking life. I'm heading off to China in a couple of months time to be an ELT."

"Wow," Steve exclaimed. "That's pretty extreme."

Bucky made a half-laugh half-snort and stubbed out his cigarette. He tucked the butt back into the packet. "Yep. I wasn't going to half-ass things. How about you? Any of your shit together?"

Steve twisted the fleece blanket in his hands. "Nowhere near."

"Makes you miss the days of lemonade stands and stealing corn from the Barton place. Remember that?"

Steve barked out a laugh. "I'll never forget it; Barney Barton chased me half-way across town and beat the shit out of me when he finally took me down."

"Yeah, your mom was really pissed with me for a while. Hey, how is she?"

"She's really good. You should come over - she'd be stoked to see you. Aside from the corn thing, she always liked you."

"I will. I definitely will." Bucky looked at Steve again and that grin was back on his face. "Shit, it really is good to see you. We had some great times, didn't we?"

Steve smiled back. "Yeah. I was so bummed when you left. No-one else I knew ever came close to coming up with half of the crazy crap you used to."

Bucky gasped in delight. "Hey, do you remember Mr Rink-A-Dink?"

Steve sucked in a sharp breath and punched Bucky on the arm. "You asshole, I'd successfully managed to forget all about Mr Rink-A-Dink for the last fourteen fucking years until now. Ugh, I'll never forgive you for making that up."

Bucky laughed wildly and rocked back, punching the air with both fists. "Yessssssss! After all these years, little Stevie Rogers _still_ gets freaked out by Mr Rink-A-Dink!"

Mr Rink-A-Dink had been a character Bucky had made up to freak Steve out during one of their many sleepovers but had staunchly maintained that he was a real thing. Apparently, Mr Rink-A-Dink was a tall skinny guy in a top hat with no face. He waited behind trees at night and slowly crept towards wherever you were until he was standing right next to you. Bucky had been very convincing in his descriptions of Mr Rink-A-Dink and had succeeded in scaring the shit out of Steve on more than one occasion.

"Remember when I scared you in the bathroom and you fell into the toilet? You were screaming so loud, Dad started to call the police." Bucky broke into another gale of loud laughter and Steve lunged forward and covered his mouth.

"You'll wake the whole damn neighborhood!" He was starting to laugh himself though; at the time, that whole incident had been mortifying and he had barely been able to set foot back into the Barnes house for at least six months afterward. But now, it seemed so ridiculous and hilarious. "My pyjama pants and underwear were soaked through with toilet water - do you know how unpleasant that was?"

Bucky started to shriek against his hand, tears rolling down his face. Steve laughed harder just watching him - this had been Bucky back then all over: A loud, cheerful boy whose mischievous nature had been so infectious. Steve suddenly wished almost desperately that they had remained friends and stayed in touch.

Bucky grabbed Steve's arm and indicated that he was okay. Steve cautiously took his hand away, ready to slam it back over Bucky's mouth if he started to make too much noise. As weird as this had all been - bumping into a long forgotten friend in his old treehouse while he was in the worst place mentally that he'd ever been in his entire life - Steve felt good. He was still laughing breathlessly and Bucky nodded as he came down from his own hysterics.

"Oh man, how had I forgotten all of that until now?" Bucky said, giggling. "Oh, Steve."

"How was I always the one on the messy end of everything?" Steve said but he wasn't annoyed.

They both caught their breath and finally stopped laughing, sitting in a comfortable silence and listening to the wind blow softly through the trees.

After a few moments, Bucky nudged Steve gently with his elbow. "This is going to sound so lame but...you were my first kiss, you know that?"

Steve blinked in surprise. _That_ he had forgotten. In fact, it had pretty much been exactly where they were both sitting now. It hadn't been long before Bucky had moved away; they had both snuck out in the middle of the night and had been sitting in the dark talking about girls. Steve hadn't kissed anyone at that point and he kind of assumed that Bucky already had - he was always so confident about everything. He hadn't given it a second thought when Bucky had suggested they kiss for practice; he had wanted to know what it felt like and it didn't seem like an odd thing to do in the middle of the night in his treehouse. Steve had enjoyed it a lot and then had gotten a little scared that he had because he thought he wanted to kiss more boys than girls. It hadn't meant anything between them at the time, just two friends goofing around and experimenting and they hadn't talked about it until now.

"You were mine too," Steve said.

"Really?" Bucky asked.

Steve nodded. "Yeah. It could have done with less teeth though. I thought you were trying to eat me."

Bucky laughed and smacked Steve on the arm. "Hey, we were both a little crap if I remember correctly; you tried to inhale in my mouth for some reason."

Steve snickered. "Oh god. It's a good thing we _did_ practice."

They both laughed again and then sat together in a contented silence, listening to the wind pick up.

Bucky huffed out a tired breath and looked at his phone. "Ugh, it's almost two. I'm going to head back in. I have to head over to Scottstown tomorrow afternoon to sort out some Visa stuff but do you want to grab lunch before I go?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah, that would be nice."

He followed Bucky down out of the tree and they stood in his garden and watched the clouds, lit by the waning moon as they moved across the sky, the wind making the trees hiss.

"Wow, what a night," Bucky said, his voice low. "Just the kind of night that Mr Rink-A-Dink likes to watch and wait- "

Steve shoved Bucky and headed towards his back door. "You're an ass, you know that Bucky Barnes?"

He heard Bucky laughing quietly as he trotted off towards his own house. "Sleep tight, Steve Rogers."

***

Steve awoke the next morning feeling rested. He heard his mom pottering about downstairs in the kitchen. Of course - it was Saturday. This week had been odd and he'd lost sense of the time a little. He stretched and rolled to his side and glanced at his phone, wincing when he saw that it was 11:25am. He didn't really care though. He lay in bed for a few minutes, smiling at the memory of the night before. Seeing Bucky again had been really good; he had expected it to be a little strained considering how long it had been since they had seen each other but it hadn't. It had felt easy and fun. Maybe that was exactly what he had needed. Steve swung out of bed, a bit more of a spring in his step this morning and threw on his bathrobe and a pair of sweats.

Sarah was sitting in the window seat knitting when Steve finally made it downstairs. "Good almost-afternoon."

Steve smiled sheepishly as he made himself a cup of coffee. "I know. I didn't mean to sleep in so late but I woke up at 1am and couldn't drift back off." He took a long sip from his mug and sat down at the kitchen table. "Wanna hear something weird?"

Sarah looked up at him interested, her fingers still working the needles without missing a beat. "Always."

"I'm not sure why but I ended up going outside and sitting in the treehouse last night."

Sarah grimaced. "Oh god, that thing must be crawling with spiders. I hope you didn't bring in any egg-sacs with you."

"Gross, Mom. Besides, they all hatch in the early summer. Anyway, guess who happened to be out for an early morning stroll too?"

Sarah looked confused. "At 1am in your grotty old treehouse?"

"Yep."

"I almost don't want to ask."

"Bucky Barnes."

Sarah laughed. "Really? He's back in town too?"

Steve rubbed his eye. "Yeah. He's off to China to teach English in a couple of months. We ended up talking for a while. Meeting for lunch today." He realized that they hadn't actually made any plans and wondered if they still were.

"How is he?"

"He seems good; he hasn't changed much. He's still a huge goof."

"I could never figure out where he got all of his energy. He never seemed to switch off." Sarah chuffed fondly. "I could have killed him when you two raided the Barton place."

Steve pointed at her. "You always had that wrong! It wasn't a _raid_ \- we took like six ears of corn each and Barney saw us. He was the one who kicked the snot out of me but you always made it seem like it was entirely Bucky's fault when it wasn't."

"He talked you into it though," Sarah argued but she wasn't angry. "He was older and should have known better. You had to have your tooth capped."

Steve absently ran his tongue over his front teeth. "What's funnier is that Barney never thought to take the corn back."

"It was good corn," Sarah said and they both burst out laughing.

There was an enthusiastic knocking on the front door and Steve grinned. He remembered that knock. Sarah was up and hurrying to the front door before Steve could move. There were two sets of excited shrieks and muffled sounds of joy when the door was opened and Steve grabbed his coffee and went into the living room.

"Look at you!" Sarah was holding Bucky by the shoulders and scrutinizing him. "When did you get so handsome?"

Bucky giggled. "Aw, shucks. But you can talk - did you stop aging at thirty-nine or something? Do you take baths in the blood of virgins?"

Steve groaned. "Oh my god, this is horrible."

Sarah gave him a frown. "Hey, let an old woman take some praise from a younger man." She turned back to Bucky. "It's so good to see you. Been a long time."

Bucky hugged her again. "Yeah. I'm kind of regretting not having stayed in touch with you Rogers folk." He pulled away and waved at Steve. "Nice outfit. I'm not sure that the people of Logansville will get the Hitchhiker's Guide reference but I'm game to see their reactions."

"Ha ha. I kind of overslept. Are you in a hurry?"

"Nope. My appointment is at three-fifteen."

Steve headed for the stairs. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll be right down."

Sarah took Bucky's hand and led him towards the kitchen. "Come on and talk to me for a bit while Steve makes himself pretty."

Bucky grinned again and smiled up at Steve as he passed. He hadn't really been able to see Bucky all that well last night but Steve was surprised at how good he looked. His hair still had that just-out-of-bed style, that same soft shade of chestnut that caught the light. His eyes were the same - blue and bright and intelligent. Steve padded upstairs and grabbed a fresh towel. He stood in the shower and sang softly to himself, enjoying the acoustics.

When he was dressed, he headed back downstairs. Sarah and Bucky were sitting at the kitchen table, talking. Bucky looked up and smiled, but it was softer than before. Understanding. Steve guessed that his mom must have mentioned something to Bucky about his trouble in New York; no details but that he was going through a hard time. Normally, he might have been a little annoyed but he was determined to ride out this good mood for as long as he could.

"Anywhere in particular you want to eat?" Steve asked.

Bucky got up and tucked his chair back under the table. "How about Hill's Diner? I could really go for anything involving lots of bacon."

"Sounds good. See you in a couple of hours, Mom."

"Have fun, sweetheart. You too, Steve." She gave Bucky an exaggerated wink and Steve groaned again.

Bucky blew Sarah a kiss. "I'm only using Steve to get to you."

Sarah laughed hard when Steve started to push Bucky through the living room. "Yeah, stop it now. It's creepy and weird."

"Killjoy!" Sarah shouted before he closed the front door.

***

Bucky drove them to Main Street in his mom's Chevy, the radio set to LOW - Logansville's one crappy little radio station. Bucky kept glancing over to Steve and grinning.

"What?" Steve asked, his elbow resting on the open window.

Bucky shook his head. "Just...you got so _big_. You were this skinny little shit back then. I can't get over it."

"Yeah well, please do. It's not that big a deal," Steve said. "I'm still the same little shit."

Bucky smirked. "I'll bet."

They parked the car and headed into Hill's Diner; it had been a staple of the town for as long as anyone could remember. The decor certainly hadn't changed much. They were seated and a pleasant waitress in her early fifties came over to get them drinks while they looked at the menu. Steve had another cup of coffee and Bucky asked for orange juice.

"I meant to ask last night but I got kind of caught up in all of the excitement: How are Rebecca and your folks?"

"Becca's good. She lives in Astoria now; she's an art historian if you can believe that. Mom's good; I think she's happier now that she's back here. Dad's being kind of a dick." Bucky gave a little shrug.

"Sorry to hear that," Steve said.

Bucky sat back against the red vinyl of the booth. "He changed a lot when he got the new job, unfortunately. It was a long time coming but they were always better apart than they were together."

Steve thought back and he kind of remembered the two of them spending more time at his house than at the Barnes's. Maybe he had just been too young to see that Bucky's parents had never really been happy together.

"That sucks," was all Steve could think to say.

"It does and it doesn't. I mean, I wouldn't have come back here if Mom hadn't moved back and it's been totally worth it to see you." He smiled and Steve smiled too, Bucky's charisma already making him feel brighter.

"You boys ready to order?" the waitress asked, appearing at their table.

Steve had been so busy talking, he hadn't even looked at the menu. "Um..."

"Do you still serve that huge breakfast platter thing?" Bucky asked with a hopeful look.

"Sure do, hon."

"Can I have that with scrambled eggs and sourdough toast please?"

The waitress smiled. "Certainly." She turned to Steve. "Ready, sweety?"

"I'll have the same," Steve handed her his menu. "Thanks." She walked away. "I thought we were having lunch."

"Steve, breakfast foods can be eaten any time of the day. Given half the chance, _all_ I would eat would be breakfast foods."

Steve idly stirred his coffee and they sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

Bucky picked at the table. "Uh, your mom mentioned that you've been going through a bad patch. You did say something last night and she didn't tell me anything - it's not my place - but if you need a friendly ear, I'm here. I know we haven't seen each other in a long time but I know how hard it can be when things screw you over and you think you're alone. You've got your mom, sure, but...I'm babbling. If you need to talk, I'm here. I just...wanted to put that out there." He tapped the side of his glass of juice.

Steve realized then that Bucky had probably been his best friend as a kid; he'd had friends at school but no-one he had considered a _best_ friend, certainly no-one he had ever felt like he could confide in about anything. College had been much the same; he'd had classmates and acquaintances but he had buried himself in his work and had never really forged any long-lasting relationships, friendship-wise or romantically. It made him feel hollow; how had he gone on like this? And here Bucky was, back in his life all of twelve hours, sincere and open and offering his friendship again as if there hadn't been a fourteen year gap separating them. He didn't even _know_ Steve - not _this_ Steve, anyway - but he thought he wanted Bucky to know him. To accept that offer of friendship. He sure as hell needed it.

"Thank you, Buck," Steve said softly. "I appreciate that. I...I'm not really ready to talk about anything, not yet. But I think I'll want to."

"I just figured that life is too short to sit on the stuff that fucks us up. We've missed out on fourteen years of each other's crap and ...jeez, this'll sound really corny but...I'm glad we found our way back into each other's lives." He was grinning that fond grin again. "Even if I'm going to be leaving for China soon, I think I want to be buds with little Stevie Rogers again."

Steve shook his head and quirked an eyebrow at him but smiled gratefully. "Not so little anymore."

Bucky held up his orange juice. "You'll always be little Stevie Rogers to me."

***

The breakfast platters were ridiculous - three people could quite easily have shared just one - but they were both starving and managed to clear their plates in record time.

"So whereabouts in China are you going to be teaching?" Steve asked, sitting back and feeling a little bloated when he was done.

"Guangzhou," Bucky said, burping softly and considering a toast crust before tossing it back onto his plate. "It's one of the larger cities but there'll be opportunities to teach in some smaller rural towns and villages too. I won't really know until I'm over there."

"Can you speak Chinese? I mean, is it mainly Cantonese or Mandarin where you'll be?"

"Eh, you don't really need to be able to speak it if you're teaching but I've been trying to learn a little. They speak both there and they're both pretty tough languages. I'm hoping I'll pick it up when I'm out there." Bucky burped again and made a face. "I think I might be ODing from too much bacon."

Steve chuckled. "Come on then, hit me with some Chinese."

Bucky thought for a second. "Okay, here's some Cantonese." He cleared his throat. "Ngóh m̀hsìk góng gwóngdùngwá."

Steve chuffed, impressed. "Wow. What does that mean?"

Bucky laughed. "It means "I don't speak Cantonese." It was the first thing I learned."

It was 2:15pm when they finally headed out of the diner. Bucky insisted on paying the check.

"You can get us some take-out sometime," Bucky said.

"Okay," Steve said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Maybe some beers too."

Bucky unlocked his car. "I'll hold you to that. I can give you a ride back home before I head to Scottstown?"

"Thanks, but I think I'll walk. Try and burn off some of that bacon."

Bucky grinned. "Good idea. I should be back home by this evening. Give me a call if you want to hang out."

They exchanged numbers and Steve waved as Bucky drove off. The afternoon was a little chilly and he stood on Main Street for a few minutes, just taking in the town and gauged how he was feeling.

The smile on his face was genuine as he headed off towards the grocery store.

***

Steve picked up a couple of local newspapers from the store; he needed a job. He didn't have a penny to his name and he couldn't live off his mom for much longer, no matter how hard she insisted on helping him out. It wasn't just the money though - he needed to feel useful and busy again. His name had been dragged through the mud back in New York and he wasn't looking forward to seeing how that would effect him getting anything else but he had to try and he was willing to do anything at the moment. The papers covered Logansville, West McCoy and Scottstown which was the bigger of the nearby townships. He could have just looked on the internet but he figured the papers were as good a place to start as any to get an idea of what kind of work was out there at the moment.

He had just crossed the street when he heard footsteps behind him. "Hey, Rogers. Hold up." It was Tony Stark.

Steve stopped and tucked his papers under his arm, bracing himself for another barrage of insults. "Tony," he greeted without much enthusiasm.

Tony ran a hand through his hair and Steve realized that he was sober; his clothes were clean and pressed. He still looked gaunt and tired but his eyes were clear. "I owe you an apology," he said quietly. "For the other day. I was drunk and fucked up and I took it out on you and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

Steve's frown eased a little. He could see that Tony was being genuine and what point was there in holding a grudge when he was in a similar position? They were both probably at their lowest points right now and he didn't like leaving bad air between himself and others if he could help it.

"Thank you," Steve said and held out his hand. "How are you doing?"

Tony shook Steve's hand appreciatively. "Still fucked up but not drunk, at least. How are you?"

Steve shrugged. "Not great but it could be worse."

Tony chuffed. "Wow, look at us with our glasses half full. So, you back in Logansville for the foreseeable?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah." He held up his papers. "Job-hunting. How's the hardware store?"

Tony shook his head. "Not great. It was starting to get bad before Dad died and I'm pretty much just taking the pulse until it flatlines. His old accountant fucked a ton of stuff up and Dad owed a lot of tax. He never quite managed to get the store back in shape. I'm considering some options but it doesn't look good."

"I'm a pretty good accountant. I could take a look at your books, maybe offer some guidance if you wanted?" He wasn't sure if Tony would take him up on it but he thought that reaching out to someone else might help his own sense of self-worth. It wasn't like it could get any lower.

Tony stilled, taken aback and his eyes were searching Steve's, looking for signs of insincerity. "That...that would be cool. I'm not sure how much help you could give - it's pretty bad - but I'd rather things went out in a blaze of glory instead of a wet fart."

Steve laughed. "You always had a way with words, Tony. I can swing by on Monday morning?"

"Sure, that would be great. Thanks, Rogers." They shook again and Tony walked off down the street, back towards the hardware store.

Steve watched him go, glad that this had happened. Whether or not he could be of any help to Tony was another matter but he could at least try. He started to whistle a little as he headed home.

***

Bucky came over that evening when he got back from Scottsville; Steve had invited him over and Sarah was more than happy to have him join them for dinner. Steve had told her about running into Tony when he had returned from town and she was proud that he'd offered to help.

"Baby steps, honey." She had kissed him on the cheek and he could see how much she was enjoying having him home. He had to admit that it was starting to feel good for him too; that he was maybe beginning to get his head together at last. Not all the way by a long shot but he thought he could get there. Having Sarah in his corner made him feel so lucky; she didn't care about what had happened, she considered him a success no matter what he did and she was proud of him without question.

"Mom is at some Tupperware party with her old friends. Do people still have Tupperware parties? Is Tupperware _that_ exciting?" Bucky followed Steve into the kitchen where Sarah was making a grilled chicken salad for the three of them.

"Oh, Tupperware is a _riot_ ," Sarah said enthusiastically from the kitchen counter.

"Really?" Bucky asked as Steve passed him a beer from the fridge and then started to set the table.

Sarah gave him a withering look. "No. They're plastic tubs. They're changing no-one's lives in the slightest. But hey, if that's what floats their boats."

Steve and Bucky both laughed and Steve poured his mom a glass of wine. "Yeah, Mom was never into all of that."

"There's more to life than Tupperware," Sarah said as she set their plates down.

Bucky snorked and held up his beer bottle. "That is the _perfect_ toast for this evening. There's more to life than Tupperware!"

They all clinked bottles and glasses and cheered and then laughed some more. Steve let himself enjoy a moment of happiness. He'd worry about real-life on Monday.

They spent the evening at the kitchen table, reminiscing about their childhood, Sarah listening with a radiant smile on her face as Bucky and Steve recounted long-forgotten adventures with glee: The Time They Hit The Wasp's Nest And Hid In The Creek, The Time Bucky Was Dared By Bobby Drake To Put A Leech On His Leg And Passed Out and The Time Steve Tried To Save A Raccoon From A Trap And Got Bitten And Was Rushed To Hospital Because Sarah Thought He Might Get Rabies. Bucky told them stories of his time at boarding school in Indiana, how he was always the one to get the other boys in trouble with some dumb-ass idea. 

Steve watched Bucky and Sarah as they talked together, giggling and bright-eyed. Bucky had lost a lot of the puppy fat he'd had as a kid; his jaw was stronger and he still held his shoulders with the same confidence he'd had in his youth. Steve had always felt inadequate next to the other boys in high school when Bucky had still lived in Logansville; short where they had been tall, skinny and frail-looking where they had been solid and strong. But then he would come home from school and Bucky would come over and drag him up trees and make him help build a dam out of rocks in the nearest stream. If it was raining, they would play video games and argue and end up play fighting but Bucky had never treated him as weak and incapable like the other kids in school had, until he'd hit puberty anyway. Steve had always been his equal even with the two years between them.

Steve came back to the conversation, aware that he'd started to let his mind drift. Almost as if Bucky had picked up on Steve's thoughts, he turned to Sarah and said, "I have to say, I was more than a little shocked when I saw Steve the other night. I mean, look at him. The last time I saw him he could barely fill out any of those huge t-shirts he used to wear. He had these little chicken legs and now they're tree trunks."

Steve groaned. "Can we _not_ talk about this again?"

"He was a late bloomer," Sarah said. "One day he was all high-pitched and spindly and the next, he sounded like James Earl Jones and I needed to buy him new clothes the next three sizes up."

Bucky threw back his head and laughed, slopping beer onto the table. "I wish I could've been there for the voice-breaking."

Steve threw up his hands. "Oh my God, will you stop? What's the big deal about me finally growing into myself? It's not like I was the only kid it happened to."

Bucky leaned over and pinched Steve's cheek, giving it a little shake. "Because you're Little Stevie Rogers."

Sarah pinched his other cheek and started to coo and Steve struggled where he sat, trying to get away. "Get off of me!"

"Oh, you love it!" Bucky snickered and Steve finally broke, laughing with them. He jabbed Bucky in the side, making him yelp and almost tip backwards off of his chair.

***

It was nearly 11pm by the time they did the dishes, Sarah protesting with a loud yawn that she would get to them in the morning. Bucky firmly planted his hands on her shoulders and spun her towards the living room and the stairs.

"We're big boys, Mrs. Rogers. We can manage these dishes. You get to bed."

Sarah turned and gave Bucky a hug, then reached across and pulled Steve in by his shirt collar.

"Mom, I'm all soapy," Steve grumbled but let himself be manhandled.

"I'm so happy you boys are here. It's nice to have the house feeling alive again," Sarah said and her voice broke a little and Steve tightened his grip on her.

"Aw, don't get all mushy on us," Bucky said softly.

Sarah pulled back and wiped her eyes. "I know, I know. I've had too much to drink. I'm off to bed. Don't be a stranger okay, Bucky?"

Bucky smiled. "I definitely won't. You'll be sick of the sight of me before I leave for China."

Steve gave Sarah a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight Mom. Thanks for dinner."

When Sarah had gone upstairs, they finished the dishes in silence. Bucky hung the dishtowel on the counter to dry and then they turned to each other with fond smiles.

"Want one more beer?" Steve asked.

Bucky stretched his arms above his head. "Yeah, why not? I think I'm drunk more on laughing than I am alcohol anyway."

They went into the living room with their drinks and flopped onto the couch.

"Oh man, this was so much fun," Bucky said, his eyes sleepy but content. "I haven't thought about a lot of what we talked about tonight for _years_."

"Me neither," Steve said. "I didn't realize how much - " he stopped himself.

Bucky turned his head and looked at him. "How much what?"

Steve gave an embarrassed little grin. "How much I'd missed you."

Bucky's smile was affectionate and warm. He punched Steve lightly on the arm. "Me too."

They both chuckled and swigged their beers. Bucky finished his and leaned over to put the empty bottle on the coffee table and noticed the framed photograph of Joe that Steve had found the day before. Sarah had put it on the small side table by the lamp.

"Oh wow," Bucky said quietly and picked up the photo. "That's your dad."

Steve sat up a little. "Yeah, Mom made me clean out the garage and I found it stashed away in a box full of books. Crazy to think that he fought in a war, huh."

Bucky nodded slowly. "I remember him."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I was what, five? Must have been. I remember he always used to pull some kind of silly face when he saw me. It always made me laugh."

Steve looked at the man in the photograph who he'd never really known. He had never really talked about his dad other than with his mom, not knowing what to say when the other kids at school spoke about their fathers. Sarah had told him stories, sure, but it wasn't the same as having stories of his own. "I remember small things about him...feelings mostly...but nothing big. I often wonder what he'd think about me now."

Bucky put the photo down. "He'd be proud. Look how much your mom loves you - he would too."

The word _proud_ still felt like a needle digging deeper and deeper into his flesh every time he heard it but if everyone else could see it, maybe he should start to as well. He took another drink and they sat quietly for a moment.

Bucky stretched. "I'd better head off. Maybe see you tomorrow?"

Steve stood and walked him to the door. "Yeah, that would be nice."

Bucky turned suddenly on the doorstep. "You know, coming home isn't such a bad thing. Whatever shit you went through in New York, it doesn't matter now. Make a new life for yourself."

Steve leaned on the door frame, wishing that it was that easy. "I'm trying."

Bucky reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "You'll figure it out. Bye, Stevie."

Steve watched Bucky cross their driveway, pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his back pocket as he did. He walked over his own lawn towards his house, patting the stone dog on the head as he did.

***

Steve woke early the next morning; he had slept like a log, dreaming little, and woke up feeling energized. He looked at his phone - it was only 5:45am. He didn't want to stay in bed and fester in his own thoughts for another couple of hours so before he could talk himself out of it, he threw off his blankets (wincing at the chill in the air) and changed into a hoodie and a pair of shorts. He opened his closet and found his running shoes - he had tried to run as often as he could in New York - and headed out of the house, closing the front door softly behind him. The street was quiet and he breathed in the crisp air for a moment before warming up a little. He hadn't been running for a while and he didn't want to pull anything by not doing things properly. It was just starting to get light; everything was still and a little surreal. He finished up his stretches and started to jog in the direction of the Barton farm. There was a track that ran alongside a lot of the fields that would eventually take him to the outskirts of town, but he doubted that he'd be able to make it that far.

Steve had liked to run a lot in New York before things had gotten bad; he liked the simple act of just choosing a direction to go and letting his feet do the rest, settling into a steady rhythm, concentrating on his breathing, feeling every muscle in his body working. Now as he ran, veering off the street into one of the few vacant lots that still existed, the one where he knew he could still cut through the trees and out onto the dirt backroad, he realized how much he had missed this, just letting his mind go blank as he focused on keeping his speed even. His brain wanted to think about the last year, wanted to dwell on everything that had gone wrong but he imagined that the bad memories were underfoot instead, each beat of his feet on the ground mashing the negative thoughts away. _Left, right, left, right, left, right_...

He could feel his body starting to strain with the exercise, unused to this after so long but he liked the pain - it made him feel like he was doing something, that his body was working hard and the endorphins kicked in. He let himself take in the quiet of the early morning town and enjoyed being alone with something that was all for him.

***

Steve got back home an hour later. His mom was still in bed and he wanted to make breakfast for her so he went straight upstairs for a shower, wincing as his legs ached. He'd be sore tomorrow - he hadn't run that far for a long time - but he didn't care. He felt amazing; awake and alive. More so than he had been for a very long time.

He stood under the shower and turned up the heat, letting the hot water run over his sore muscles and started to sing to himself again as he washed. "I can't feel my face when I'm with you...but I love it..."

He dried and combed his hair afterward and changed into his nicer pair of jeans and his favorite blue shirt. He wanted to make blueberry pancakes - it used to be a treat for them both on birthdays and holidays but he just wanted to do something special for his mom for how supportive she had always been of him, through good times and bad. Whatever happened to him in his life, he would never question how much she loved him.

Steve set the table and put fresh water in the vase of tulips. They were still perky and he touched the vase gently; his father had held this, had carefully chosen it and filled it with stolen flowers. Steve knew that Joe had apologized to the owners of the garden he'd stolen them from, though.

Sarah came into the kitchen as Steve was mixing the pancake batter which was a closely guarded Rogers Family Secret. He looked up and smiled when she walked through the door in her bath robe.

"What's all this?" Sarah asked with a smile as she looked at the table laid out with care.

"I'm making us blueberry pancakes," Steve said, whisking the batter. "Sit down and prepare to be pampered."

"What have I done to deserve this?" Sarah asked with a grin and she sat down at the table, pleased and a little bemused.

Steve turned to look at her. "Are you kidding me?" He put down the bowl of pancake mix. "You've done nothing but support me through everything, even when I failed, when I have nothing at all." He swallowed hard, the emotion rising fast in him.

"Stevie..." Sarah said softly.

"No," Steve choked, overcome. "What would I have done? Without you? What would...you have to know what this means to me..."

Sarah was out of her chair and at his side immediately. "Hey now, where has all of this come from?" She brushed his hair off of his forehead. "You didn't fail, Steve. You've never failed." She held him tight and he felt silly.

"I'm sorry," he sniffled. "It's been an overwhelming week. Coming back home, seeing Bucky again, having to start over...it...it's made me realize how _miserable_ I was in New York. I never felt like I belonged. I had no real friends, just colleagues...I always felt so alone...but now I feel...like I'm finding myself again, maybe. I don't want to go back to all of that."

"You don't have to. Honey, whatever you want to do, you know I'll be on your side. Having you home has been wonderful. You take whatever time you need to figure things out, okay? I know you hate hearing it, but I want to be able to help you out financially while you get back on your feet. See this as a second chance; Do something you _want_ to do rather than something you think you _have_ to."

Steve nodded. "Thank you. Sorry, I didn't mean to get so upset."

Sarah picked up a dishtowel and wiped his eyes. "It's better to let it out; please don't bottle it all up. Promise me you'll talk about anything that's bothering you, okay?"

"I promise."

She kissed his cheek. "Now where are my damn pancakes?"

Steve burst out laughing and made Sarah sit down while he got her a cup of coffee and washed the blueberries for the pancakes.

***

After breakfast, Steve did the dishes, pooh-poohing Sarah's offer to help and she went upstairs to get changed; she was meeting with a friend downtown for coffee. Steve settled at the kitchen table to start job-hunting, glancing up as Sarah came down thirty minutes later dressed and ready to head out.

"Thanks for breakfast - it was lovely," she said and kissed Steve on the cheek.

Steve smiled. "My pleasure ma'am."

As she was pulling on her jacket, she watched Steve sitting at the kitchen table hunched over the newspapers he had bought yesterday, chewing the end of his pen.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking to see what jobs are around," Steve mumbled.

Sarah rested a hand on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "You do know that there's this thing called the "Internet" that's been around for a while. We even have it here. You can look up jobs on it and everything."

Steve threw his mom a dirty look. "Oh ha ha. I know, I just wanted to get an idea of what's available in the area."

"And?" Sarah asked, rooting around in her purse for the car keys.

"Retail mostly. But I'll take whatever I can get."

"No accountancy jobs?"

Steve rested his head on his hand and doodled a few spiders over a real-estate ad. "I'm not sure if that's what I really want to do anymore. I'll help out Tony if I can but beyond that..." He shrugged.

Sarah patted his shoulder. "You've got time. I'll be back before dinner."

"Have a nice lunch. Say hi to Gloria for me," Steve called before the front door closed.

He looked back down at the job pages and sighed. He could go on the internet and have a look but his heart really wasn't in it. He flipped through the papers, half-reading them. His phone buzzed a text notification beside him.

 **BUCKY:** I'm back in Scottstown and bored out of my gourd. Entertain me, Rogers.

 **STEVE:** Why are you back in Scottstown?

 **BUCKY:** Someone fucked something up with my Visa and I have to sort it out aaaaaaaaallllllll over again.

 **STEVE:** On a Sunday??

 **BUCKY:** Apparently bureaucracy doesn't sleep. Say something funny.

 **STEVE:** I don't fare well under pressure.

 **BUCKY:** Then what use are you? Why are we friends if you can't stop me from chewing my own hands off while I wait in an office that smells like cabbage??

Steve grinned. They were friends. They _had_ been friends but this was different. It was strange - they had only met again two days ago but Steve already felt like Bucky had been part of his life for much longer, that there hadn't really been a fourteen year gap separating them. There was something comforting about being around Bucky; not just because he was ingrained as part of Steve's childhood but because...Steve wasn't quite sure why. He remembered why Bucky was in Scottstown and was hit with a pang of sadness. He wouldn't be in Logansville for much longer.

 **STEVE:** Fine. I spy with my little eye...

 **BUCKY:** UGH, you suck. Wanna hang out later?

 **STEVE:** I thought I sucked? :P

 **BUCKY:** Meh, you're okay. You pass the time :D

 **STEVE:** Gee, thanks >_>

 **BUCKY:** You love it, Rogers :P

***

Steve spent the rest of the day doing chores; vacuuming, dusting, sorting out the recycling. He was going to listen to his mom's advice and take his time with the job hunting but he was sure as hell going to pull his weight while he was here. Sarah came home at 5pm and they ordered pizza for dinner and ate in the living room, watching re-runs of Cheers. Steve had forgotten how awesome it was to hang out with his mom; she had always been a fun parent. While she had made sure that he was always doing his best with his schoolwork and taking his education seriously, she had also made sure that he stepped back to enjoy himself too. Steve had always needed reminding of that.

Sarah was wiping their plates at the sink and Steve was wrapping the leftover slices of pizza in saran wrap to put in the fridge when Bucky's familiar knock sounded at the door in a continuous barrage.

Steve rolled his eyes. "That'll be Bucky." He headed through the living room, the knocking showing no sign of stopping. Steve yanked open the front door. "Yeah, we get it."

Bucky smirked. "Care to come and sit on the porch swing with me for a spell?" he asked with a flourish of his hands towards his house and a strange Southern accent.

Steve snorted. "Sure thing, Colonel Barnes. Maybe we could drink mint juleps and go to a cotillion while we're at it. I hear they're all the rage these days."

"Oh, Steve Rogers is hilarious," Bucky said with a grin. "Come on - bring a jacket and keep me company. What the hell is a mint julep anyway?"

Sarah came in from the kitchen and flopped back down on the couch. "Bourbon, soda and mint."

"I'd rather have a Woo Woo," Bucky said as Steve grabbed his jacket. "The pinker the drink, the better it tastes."

Sarah laughed. "Is that a fact?"

"Oh totally," Bucky said.

"I'll be next door," Steve said to his mom and nudged Bucky back outside.

"Stay out of trouble."

Bucky poked his head back through the door before Steve could close it behind him. "We're actually going to rob the Scottstown Bank and run off to Cuba together to live as playboys and - " he was cut off as Steve planted a hand on his face and shoved him outside.

Sarah laughed and gave Steve a wave and he rolled his eyes.

They crossed over the front lawn and Bucky steered them around to the back of the Barnes' house. It was just getting dark, the sky a deepening blue. Steve could see the North Star.

"Oh, is your mom in? I realized I haven't said hi to her at all," Steve said.

"She's out at her book club. It's like she joined a million clubs when she got back here. I think she's lonely and wants to keep her mind off of Dad. She seems happy to be so busy though."

They walked around to the back porch and sat on the swing, overlooking Bucky's back yard. Steve chuckled to himself as he sat down.

"What's so funny, blondie?" Bucky asked as he fished around in his jacket for his cigarettes.

"I just remember when we used to sit out here and goof around until like 3am. Your dad used to shout out of the window at us to be quiet."

Bucky snickered as he patted every pocket again for his lighter. "Yeah. Remember when we thought we saw that U.F.O?"

"I'm still convinced it _was_ a U.F.O. It was too weird to be anything else."

Bucky grunted and frowned. "Fuck's sake, I think I lost yet another lighter. Smoking's more hassle than it's worth."

"So give up," Steve said.

"Uh-huh. Easier said than done."

Steve grabbed Bucky's packet of cigarettes. "No time like the present."

Bucky tried to snatch them back. "Oh, come on. Seriously?"

"You haven't even got a lighter so you don't need them anyway," Steve said and sat on them.

"Oh great - now they're going to be all squashed and warm from your ass!"

Steve leaned back on the porch swing and folded his arms behind his head. "I'm pretty sure my ex-boyfriend said something similar to me once."

Bucky's eyes widened and then he burst into an uncontrollable fit of the giggles. "Oh my God, I think that's the best thing you've ever said."

Steve started to laugh too and Bucky eventually gave up trying to retrieve his cigarettes.

"Okay, fine. I wanted to quit before I left for China, anyway." He sat back and splayed his legs, letting his heels drag on the wood of the porch with each rock of the swing.

Steve felt that pang of sadness again at the thought of Bucky leaving. "When are you going exactly?"

"Just after the New Year. It only really hit me when my Visa got approved. I'm actually going to China." He chuffed out a small laugh. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"You still want to go though, right?"

Bucky hummed noncommittally. "I've got nothing better to do."

"I know that feeling," Steve muttered.

Bucky turned and looked at him. "Do you think you'll try and get a job here?"

Steve stared up at the sky. More stars were coming out. "Here or Scottstown or West McCoy. Whatever I can get."

"What did you do before?" Bucky asked.

Steve still didn't know how much he wanted to talk about his old job; it still stung. "I was an accountant. For a pretty big firm." His voice was tight.

Bucky seemed to sense that Steve was reluctant to speak about it. "Sorry, Steve. I'm not trying to pry or anything - "

Steve shook his head, still looking up as stars blinked into being, one by one. "No, no. It's okay, I just...it's silly really. It's not even...in the grand scheme of things it's stupid for me to get so wound up about it..."

"Don't say that," Bucky said softly. "It's obviously not a stupid thing to you."

Steve exhaled through his nose. "Do you ever think about whether something was worth doing just because you thought it was the right thing to do? That it might just have been easier to...say nothing and not go through a ton of shit?"

Bucky shifted on the swing a little. "Is this the kind of thing that might have made someone feel really bad had they ignored it?"

Steve nodded.

"The kind of thing that someone probably would have regretted staying silent about had they chosen to stay silent? Someone who has always had strong morals and would do the right thing no matter what? If I knew a person like that, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't even have considered the easier option. And whatever it was they did that lost them their job and put them through a lot of nasty crap, I know they would go back and do it all over again the same way instead of staying quiet. That kind of thing?"

Steve knew that Sarah wouldn't have told Bucky anything about his job, that Bucky had guessed at least a little of what had happened, maybe; he had always been perceptive. Freakily so. "Yeah. Point taken."

"It's not worth beating yourself up about. You can tell me about it or not tell me - I'm here if you want to talk. But you're a good person, Steve. You were a good person back then and I'm 97% sure that you're still a good person now. Don't let what happened define the rest of your life." He reached over and put a hand on Steve's shoulder.

Steve looked over to Bucky; he could barely see him in the fading light. "How are some people so good at knowing what to say to make someone else feel better about themselves?"

Steve could hear the smile in Bucky's voice when he spoke and his hand tightened on Steve's shoulder. "Some of us just really want our cigarettes back."

"Way to ruin the moment, Barnes," Steve said but he grinned. "Thanks though."

Bucky started to rock the swing again. "I do my best."

***

Monday morning, Steve left the house at 10am and walked into town to see Tony at the hardware store. He and Bucky had stayed out on the porch for a few hours, just talking and joking and Steve had enjoyed every minute of it. Winnie Barnes had come home to find them still outside, both shivering slightly because the nights were getting colder but unwilling to go indoors unless the other did first. She reacted with as much excitement as Steve's mom had over Bucky - hugging him tightly and exclaiming that he'd become a very handsome young man.

Steve had headed home when Winnie had gone to bed, Bucky smiling after him in a way that made Steve feel warm and happy. It almost felt worth everything that had happened to him to wind up back here and with Bucky again. They both seemed to be at strange turning points in their lives, not entirely sure what they were doing. Steve had noticed the uncertainty in Bucky's voice when he had spoken about China this time and he had wanted to convince him to stay, slightly confused as to why he wanted to so badly.

Steve was going to talk to Bucky about New York eventually; he knew that Bucky wouldn't consider him a failure or any of the other things that Steve thought about himself but he was still embarrassed and ashamed that things had come to what they did. He had to shake himself out of it; it didn't matter now, not really. But Steve was stubborn and hard on himself - he always had been. He knew it was time he had to start trying not to think in certain ways, in those endless loops of self-inflicted punishment that had dogged him since high school. Maybe it was time to give himself a break.

He wandered down Main Street and saw Stark's Hardware up ahead. He pushed through the door and the familiar and oddly comforting smell of cut wood and paint hit him. Steve found an employee - a young guy with badly bleached hair, the roots dark and at least an inch long - stacking tubs of weed-killer on a shelf and asked if Tony was in today.

Steve was looking at a display of hammers and wondering what the difference between them all was when Tony walked down the aisle towards him.

"Hey Rogers," he said and held a hand out to Steve. He looked tired and his clothes were rumpled. "I wondered if you'd actually come by."

"I said I would," Steve replied.

Tony indicated to him to follow and they walked through the store to Tony's office. He closed the door after them. "I, uh, thanks for doing this. I've been so overwhelmed by trying to run this place that I've...I don't know what I'm doing. Spreadsheets are there - " he pointed to his laptop, " - kind of the rest of everything is in there." He pointed to a large overflowing box of papers.

Steve frowned at the box. "Really?"

Tony slumped into one of the two office chairs. "Like I said, Dad made a mess."

Steve put his hands on his hips and huffed out a breath. "Okay, I'll start with the laptop I guess." He sat in the other chair and opened the spreadsheet.

They remained silent for a little while. Tony was reading something on his phone, his face hard. He still had dark circles under his eyes. After twenty minutes, Steve pulled the huge box towards him and grabbed a handful of papers and started to sift through them.

"So, how bad is it? I know it's bad, I just need someone to tell me _how_ bad," Tony said, leaning back and making the office chair creak dangerously. "I've been ignoring things for way too long."

"It's bad," Steve said, attempting to sort the paperwork into logical piles.

Tony hissed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"But there's a chance you could salvage things. It's a very small chance but if you're serious about keeping this place afloat, I might be able to offer a little advice." Steve gave Tony a grim smile.

Tony folded his arms and stared up at the ceiling. "As much as I hate this fucking place, I don't hate the people who work here and they don't deserve any of this. Pietro - the kid with the bad hair - he sends nearly all of his wages back to his sister in Eastern Europe. I mean, how shitty is that? If this place goes under...how fucking shitty is that of me to do that to him?"

Steve watched him for a moment. "So get your finger out of your ass." He shook a pile of receipts at him. "Get on top of this. It's not over yet."

Tony scowled at him. "Since when did you become Captain Motivation? You're back in town less than a week and suddenly you're out saving people?"

Any other time, Steve would have been annoyed but this sounded more like the Tony he had known back in high school. He thought about his mom and Bucky and how they were helping to build him back up, brick by brick. "Yep."

Tony snorted. "Fucking figures." He reached into the box and pulled out a wad of papers and flipped through them. "You never told me why you came back here."

Steve adjusted the spreadsheet and added a couple of new cells. "I got fired from my job, lost everything, didn't see much point in staying in New York when my heart wasn't really in it."

He was expecting an insult or a snippy remark but Tony just made a sympathetic noise. "Sorry."

Steve glanced up. "How about you? You were in L.A right?"

Tony nodded. "Yep. Fucked up my job, fucked up my relationship, then Dad died and I came back here and fucked everything up too. It's been fun." He grabbed another fistful of paperwork. "The relationship could have been saved but I pushed and pushed and they finally left. I guess they could only take so many years of my shit. I took them for granted and look what I got. I have to hand it to them though, they stuck it out longer than I thought; we'd been together since high school."

Steve remembered Tony's pretty, popular girlfriend. "Pepper, right?"

Tony's hands stilled. "Uh...no. Not Pepper."

"But...you were together since 9th Grade. You were voted Prom King and Queen," Steve said, confused. Tony and Pepper had been the golden couple of Logansville High School.

"Yeah...you know what a beard is, right?" Tony said with a pinched expression.

Steve put down the pile of papers he had been sifting through. "Pepper was a...beard? Then who..." He didn't even have to finish asking before the answer came to him. Tony's best friend, James Rhodes, had been a popular guy too and captain of the football team. " _Rhodey?_ You and Rhodey?"

Tony laughed a small dry laugh. "Yeah, me and Rhodey. Pepper was a good friend. She had everyone fooled; she wanted to help us in any way and I think being that young, neither of us were really ready to come out." He rubbed his eyes. "As time went on, it just got harder for me to tell anyone. Rhodey always wanted to come out and tell everyone - he was always braver than I was - but I convinced him not to. Kind of wish I hadn't now; maybe it would have made things easier."

"I had no idea..." Steve said.

"No-one did." Tony looked at his phone again, a sad expression on his face.

"You're not together now?" Steve asked softly.

"He split with me about 4 months before Dad died. Can't say I blame him really; I was never a very good boyfriend." Tony snorted. "I have no idea why I'm telling you all of this. Actually, yeah I do: I have no friends and no-one gives a shit."

"If I didn't give a shit, I wouldn't have bothered coming here today," Steve said. "Sometimes it helps to vent. I don't mind listening."

Tony scrutinized Steve for a moment. "I never got you back in high school. I always thought you were this dull little teacher's pet."

"I never got you either," Steve said. "I always thought you were this arrogant, jumped up attention seeker."

Tony laughed then and it was real. "I was. I still am. But...you're not so bad." He looked a little embarrassed for a moment and then cleared his throat and pointed at the papers. "So, can I do anything?"

Steve nodded. "The tax your dad owed, there's not much that can be done about that but I could help you organize the payments and take a little of the pressure off. The good news is that apart from the tax, the store isn't in as bad a shape as you think. Yeah, you've got more outgoing than you have incoming but with a push, you could fix that."

Tony nodded, the frown on his face easing. "What kind of a push? People are more inclined to get their hardware goods from the bigger shopping outlets outside of town these days rather than come in here. This place is considered old fashioned now."

Steve thought for a moment. "Maybe offer a service that no-one else in town has?"

Tony folded his arms. "Like what?"

Steve nodded over to another laptop on a small table in the corner, taken apart and surrounded by tools. "What's going on over there?"

"That's Pietro's. I'm fixing it for him."

"If people need electronics fixed, where do they go?"

Tony sat up a little straighter. "Scottstown. There was a place here a couple of years ago but the owners moved out of state."

"So offer to repair things - computers, blenders, lawnmowers, whatever. Set some rates, bring in some more money."

"That's such a simple idea," Tony said and knocked a fist against his forehead. "I can fix things - I used to _build_ computers for fuck's sake. Why didn't I think of this?"

Steve clipped some papers together and stacked them neatly back into the box. "It's hard to see the wood for the trees when you're in a bad spot."

Tony seemed a little brighter. "I can do this. This is something I'm good at."

Steve updated the spreadsheet again. "Do you have QuickBooks Pro? It'll make things a hell of a lot easier than the system your dad was working from. In the meantime, I've made things a little clearer for you."

"I can get hold of it. I...thanks, Rogers. I know this might not solve everything but...it's something. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Steve said. He stood up and got ready to leave.

"Hey, if you're looking for a job I could use a good accountant," Tony said from his chair. "I don't know how much I could realistically pay you but maybe we could work something out?"

Steve hesitated. "I...I'll think about it." He had been almost adamant in his decision not to get back into accountancy but it had been kind of nice, helping Tony out.

"At least let me give you something for your time today," Tony looked more genuine than Steve had seen him since getting back in Logansville.

"Today was a freebie. Maybe we could discuss hiring me as a consultant or something." Steve scribbled his cell number on a scrap of paper. "Just give me a call if you need anything."

Tony nodded. "Thank you." He walked Steve back out into the store. "In the meantime, you've got a standing discount here."

Steve grinned. "That'll make my mom happy. Tony, the whole thing with Rhodey - thanks for telling me. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for the two of you." Steve's own coming out had been terrifying but painless and he hadn't had a boyfriend until college anyway. He couldn't picture how he ever would have navigated high school the way Tony and Rhodey had.

"Yeah, well. It's...it's all history now." Tony seemed to sag a little.

"You were together a long time. Maybe there's some hope."

Tony eyed Steve again; a strange mixture of curiosity, annoyance and amusement. "Maybe," he said finally. "Thanks again." He gave a wave and walked back into his office, closing the door behind him.

***

Steve was going to grab something to eat for lunch before heading home but instead got a sandwich to go from Hill's Diner and headed over to Logansville High School. He walked through the main doors and it was the weirdest feeling; the place looked different - it had obviously undergone a lot of redecorating and renovations since he had last been there - but it still smelled the same. He walked down the corridor to the main desk. He got a few interested glances from some kids either on their way to lunch or class and hoped that Dr Erskine wasn't teaching right now.

The receptionist smiled at him. "Can I help you?"

"Um, I was wondering if Dr Erskine was around? I used to be one of his students and he said I could stop by and see him on his lunch break."

"No problem - I'll just give him a call." She picked up the phone and started to dial an extension. "Who can I say is here?"

"Steve Rogers."

The receptionist cleared her throat. "Dr Erskine? I have a Steve Rogers in reception for you. Thank you." She smiled at Steve again. "He's on his way."

A moment later, Dr Erskine rounded the corner, a grin on his face and a napkin tucked into his collar. "Steven! What a pleasant surprise."

Steve held up his sandwich. "Thought I'd take you up on your offer of joining you for lunch."

"Of course! Follow me." They walked down a few familiar corridors to Dr Erskine's office. He held the door open for Steve and then hurried in and emptied a pile of books off of a chair, indicating at Steve to sit when it was clear.

"Thanks," Steve said and sat down. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

Dr Erskine waved a hand. "Not at all; I must confess, as much as I like to tell people that I read while I have my lunch, I spend far too much of it on Facebook."

Steve laughed and started to eat his sandwich and they chatted about the weather and the town. Dr Erskine finished off what looked like leftover pasta. He wiped his hands when he was done and threw his napkin in the trash.

"So, how are you? The last we spoke you were not having such a good time of it."

Steve swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. "I'm actually doing a little better. I'm starting to realize that coming back to Logansville wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to me."

"I'm glad to hear this," Dr Erskine said sincerely.

"Well, _Aller anfang ist schwer_ : _All beginnings are hard_ ," Steve said with a little smile, "but maybe not all that bad."

Dr Erskine raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Did you use the library or the internet to find that one out?"

"The internet," Steve admitted.

Dr Erskine laughed. "I'm happy you made the effort at least. And I'm pleased that things are looking up for you."

Steve sat back and looked out of the window onto the football field. "It's weird; I've kind of reconnected with two people I used to know; we've all got our reasons for being back here - good and bad - but...I don't know. It's starting to feel like I was supposed to come home and think about what I really want. Does that sound stupid?"

"Not at all. Very few people get the chance you have now to choose their own path again. I would make the most of it."

Steve thought about Bucky and how little time he had to spend with him before he left for China. "I will."

***

The rest of September and then October went by in a blur. Steve saw Bucky everyday; they watched bad TV together, had dinner with Sarah more evenings than not and took walks out to the Barton Farm. Bucky was finally trying to stop smoking and had taken up chewing bubblegum instead, delighting in blowing bubbles as big as he could and then popping them against Steve's face. It was funny the first time, not so much the tenth time when he was scraping pink goo out of his stubble.

Somehow word had spread that Steve was an accountant (thanks Tony) and a few people had approached him about help with their tax returns, eager to put their trust into someone that was known and respected in Logansville (Sarah had always been proud that the Rogers family were held in good stead) rather than go to a stuffy firm in Scottstown or West McCoy. Steve agreed to help; any income right now would be good and it seemed silly not to. It gave him a boost of confidence too and took a little of the hurt of New York away.

Halloween rolled around; it had always been Sarah's favorite holiday and she went crazy decorating the outside of the house with ghosts and plastic skeletons and she littered the yard with polystyrene tombstones. She bought so much candy that Steve was sure they would be eating it until Christmas. Logansville had a nine o'clock curfew for trick-or-treaters and Bucky had talked Steve and Sarah into a Friday The 13th marathon after they had helped hand out all of the sweets. He came over at 5:30pm, spraying Steve in the face with some Silly String when he answered the door.

"Happy Halloween!" Bucky laughed as Steve blinked, the string stuck to his long eyelashes.

Steve wiped the gunk off of his face. "Thanks, Buck."

Sarah walked in from the kitchen, holding up a hand as Bucky stepped towards her with the can of Silly String. "Spray me and die."

Bucky pouted. "You guys are no fun."

They had a quick dinner of Sloppy Joes and then the trick-or-treaters started to knock. Sarah gushed at the costumes while Steve and Bucky handed out candy, Bucky eager to spray Silly String on as many kids as he could. When the can eventually ran out, he hid behind the large cut-out of a ghost on the porch and jumped out on groups of screaming children and a few adults too. Sarah and Steve couldn't stop laughing. Bucky was a lot of fun to be with and Steve was having a great night.

Steve finally locked the front door at nine o'clock after the last batch of trick-or-treaters had left and Bucky danced gleefully. "It's Jason Voorhees time!"

Sarah groaned. "I'll get us some drinks. You know every single one of those films are the same, right?"

"No no no," Bucky said sternly. "There are some very subtle differences to each movie. Jason doesn't actually get his mask until Part Three and he's not really even in the first one. Now, in Part Two he has - "

"Okay, okay. We're going to watch them in a minute anyway. I don't need a full rundown." She headed into the kitchen to get them all a pumpkin beer.

Steve was queuing up Netflix as Bucky went over to the mirror next to the front door and the coat hooks. "Candyman, Candyman, Candyman..."

Steve laughed. "Remember when we thought that would actually work and we didn't turn off the light all night after we'd said it five times?"

"I left my bedroom light on for a month," Bucky said and sat next to Steve on the couch. "Shit's scarier than Bloody Mary."

Sarah came back in and handed them both a bottle of beer and settled on the armchair. "Okay, let's get this over with."

Bucky gasped, feigning offence. "You don't get the Friday The 13th movies _over with_. You _experience_ them."

Steve snorted and started Netflix. "You're really going for the hard sell here."

They all sat through the first three movies, laughing together over how ridiculous the films were, how dumb all the characters were except for the Final Girl who made all the right choices and got away at the end.

Sarah groaned loudly when Friday The 13th Part Three ended. "Okay, I'm done. There's only so much of this I can take. All three of those movies ended in exactly the same way: Girl escapes in boat and gets grabbed by Jason or whoever from the water."

"But the next one has Corey Feldman in it!" Bucky exclaimed.

"It's also called The Final Chapter and there are eight more after that one," Steve said, stretching.

"We don't have to watch all of them; Part Five is kind of shitty but you _have_ to watch Jason Lives - it's the best one." Bucky made puppy-dog eyes at Sarah.

"Sorry, but there are only so many hours of machete-wielding repetitive dumbness I can take. See you boys tomorrow." Sarah blew them both a kiss and headed upstairs.

Bucky poked Steve in the side. "You can make it through a few more, right?"

"Ugh, I don't think I can. They _are_ kind of repetitive."

"Noooooo!" Bucky wailed and started to shake Steve. "Don't give up on me now."

Steve grabbed Bucky in a headlock and snickered as he couldn't get out of it and he finally stopped squirming and just gazed up at Steve with a grin. "Hey, let's go out to the treehouse."

"Buck, it's nearly two in the morning."

Bucky sat up straight and smoothed his hair back down. "I know but I'm in the Halloween spirit." He got to his feet and pulled Steve up off of the couch with both hands. "Come on, it'll be spooky."

Steve couldn't help but smile; he felt so good when he was with Bucky. "Lead the way."

They threw on their sneakers and jackets and before they went out of the back door, Steve grabbed the fleece blanket from the window seat. It was freezing outside; crisp and clear and Steve followed Bucky as he headed across the yard to the apple tree.

"You know," Bucky said in a hushed voice, "this is prime Mr Rink-A-Dink weather."

"You can just shut the fuck up about that guy," Steve said with a hiss.

Bucky laughed softly and started to climb up into the treehouse. "Did you ever play that Slender Man game? They totally ripped off Mr Rink-A-Dink."

"Yeah, I'm sure they did," Steve said and crawled into the treehouse after him.

They scooted to the back and sat; Steve wrapped the blanket around them both and they listened to the eerie stillness of the night.

 Bucky shivered from the cold. "Why did we come out here again?"

"Because _you_ wanted to!" Steve said and smacked Bucky on the arm.

Bucky giggled and Steve tried to ignore the small flare in his chest as Bucky huddled closer to him.

"I'm going to miss this place," Bucky said softly after a few moments.

"My treehouse?" Steve asked with a smile.

"No, doofus. Logansville. I kind of didn't realize how much I missed it here until I came back and now I'm going away again." Bucky sighed and Steve thought he heard that hesitancy in Bucky's voice again.

"Isn't that always the way though? I bet if you stayed, you'd get bored after a couple of months."

"I guess," Bucky replied. "I think I'm just getting fed up of never staying in one place for very long. I left Indiana after college and moved to Chicago, then St Louis, Minneapolis after that and now I'm going all the way over to the other side of the world. I have no idea what I'm looking for any more."

"Maybe you'll find it in China," Steve said but even he didn't sound too convinced.

Bucky hummed and sighed again. "Did you know that I was engaged once?"

Steve turned to look at him; he could just about see Bucky's face in the darkness. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, second year of college. We were pretty full-on. Thought we knew exactly where we were going, how our lives were going to be, all that crap. But then after college we just...realized we wanted different things. She got an amazing job and moved back to Russia and I didn't follow her."

"I had no idea," Steve said. "Do you still talk to her?"

"Yeah, a few times a year," Bucky said fondly. "She's married now to a great guy and they have a kid. It's strange though; now I just find it hard to believe that we were ever engaged in the first place. It's weird how you can be so sure about something at a certain point in your life and then a few years later, wonder how that was ever something you thought you wanted." He rested his head against the wooden boards of the tree house and turned to Steve. "How about you? Anyone special back in New York?"

Steve shook his head. "No, not in the last couple of years at least. I was seeing someone for a while, but I think we both knew that it was never going to head anywhere major. He was a photojournalist for a newspaper in New York and he travelled a lot. It kind of got to the point where we didn't miss each other when he was away and that was that. It was amiable. Then work got busy and I didn't have time for dating or anything and then..." Steve paused uncertainly. "And then things fell apart."

"What happened?" Bucky asked quietly and Steve knew that he wouldn't be offended if he didn't want to talk about it, but he wanted to. He wanted to know what Bucky would truly think of him.

Steve took a breath. "I worked for a pretty big firm - Pierce, Schmidt and Rumlow. They're hot shit in the corporate finance world. Anyway, I managed to get a spot on their accounts team; had to work my ass off but I made an impression and after a few years was head of the department. Oversaw all of their major accounts, that kind of thing." He was glad that it was so dark. It made it easier to talk. "I started to notice weird things on the system; money that wasn't accounted for, fluctuations in payments, that sort of thing. At first I tried to look into it and fix things - I was the only one who had access to those accounts. But the harder I looked, the stranger it got. I went to my boss and he was pretty blasé about the whole thing. Told me not to worry."

Bucky didn't say a word; he just waited patiently for Steve to go on.

"A month or so passed and the discrepancies were getting worse. I didn't tell the rest of my team - I didn't want anyone else getting involved. I finally went back to my boss and told him that I wasn't going anywhere until I knew what was going on. He got down to it then. They...they tried to pay me off. That's when I knew it was serious."

"You didn't take it," Bucky said.

Steve shook his head. "No. Everything felt wrong. As soon as I refused that money, it all went downhill. They started to twist things around: Bad-mouthing me to my team, making it look as though _I_ had moved money around in the accounts, planting seeds of distrust amongst everyone. I still remember the morning I got called into the Chief Exec's office." He chuffed out a bitter little laugh. "As soon as I walked in, I realized I should have gotten myself a lawyer, that things were going to get worse. They tried to offer me money one last time. A _lot_ of money. I was so stupid. I thought...I thought I could do things the right way, the _honest_ way but by the time I got a lawyer and tried to fight back it was too late. They made sure my career was destroyed first though, that my name was fucking _mulch,_ then they sued me for everything I had and threatened to go after my family and take what they had too. I couldn't do that to Mom so...I gave up. But not before they humiliated me in every way they knew would hurt."

Steve didn't have to look at Bucky to see that he was frowning. "But that all sounds like...like _blackmail_. Surely anyone could have seen that," Bucky said, disbelief and anger in his voice. "Anyone could have seen that they were embezzling from their own company."

"That's what I thought too but they were powerful people," Steve said softly, bitterly. "More powerful than me. I was naive. I was an idiot." He felt like crying but that would have just been giving them one more piece of him so he swallowed it down.

Bucky didn't speak for so long that Steve was suddenly sure that he was thinking everything bad about Steve that he thought about himself: That he was weak, that he was a failure.

"Were you worried about what I would think of you if you told me all of that?" he finally said.

Steve just nodded.

"Steve, you tried to do what you thought was right. That was all you could do. Fuck them for kicking you while you were down and fuck them for putting you through all of that. You're a good person. _I_ like you, anyhow." Bucky put his arm across Steve's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "But you _are_ an idiot for believing that I'd think any differently of you."

Steve wiped his eyes and managed a little laugh. "Sorry."

Bucky rested his head against Steve's and pulled the blanket up a little more. "I guess I'll forgive you fully if you watch another four Friday The 13th movies with me."

Steve groaned dramatically and they both chuckled before falling silent again. Bucky was so warm against him and Steve felt better in himself; lighter, determined to make a new life. He wished that Bucky could be a part of it too and his heart thumped as he acknowledged what he was fully feeling for the boy he had known long ago that had come back into his life when he needed it the most. It scared him; so little time had really passed since they had stumbled back into each other in this treehouse but Bucky was like a bright light in the darkness. Steve's life hadn't turned out quite the way he had dreamed it would but now it seemed like it was on the right path finally. If only Bucky wasn't leaving.

"I'm glad you're here, Buck," Steve said.

"Me too," Bucky whispered.

***

Steve ignored his feelings - he was very good at it - because if he gave in to them, he would find it that much harder when Bucky left. They had called it a night not long after Steve had told Bucky about New York, both of them cold and tired.

"Chin up, Steve Rogers," Bucky had said before heading back next door, leaving Steve to try and sort through his emotions in what remained to be a sleepless night.

He was steadily getting more enquiries from people who needed help with their taxes and bookkeeping too and he had to come to a decision about what he wanted to do.

"Steve, only do it if you _want_ to do it," Sarah had said to him one morning the week after Halloween when he was sitting at the kitchen table tallying up the amount of requests he'd had. He had stopped by the hardware store to see Tony again and was pleased to see that business had picked up a little.

"That's great," Steve had said, looking through the receipts Tony had shoved at him for laptop repairs.

"I mentioned to a few people that you were good with numbers," Tony had replied. He had looked less crumpled and a little brighter in the eyes.

Steve had smiled. "Yeah, I noticed."

"I know. I'm trying to figure out if I want to. It's nice that so many people want my help," Steve said and rested his chin on his hand, looking down at his notepad.

Sarah poured him and herself a cup of coffee and sat next to him. "Just don't feel obliged. I know how New York dampened things for you on the accounting front. Just give it some thought."

"I will," Steve promised and glanced out of the kitchen window. The weather had turned and Autumn seemed eager to turn into Winter as soon as it could; it was colder and a steady drizzle beat against the glass. The wind rattled the back door.

"I'm really not looking forward to going to work in this," Sarah said, frowning at the rain.

"Is there anything I can do for you today? Any chores or shopping or anything?" Steve asked. He didn't have anything planned but wanted to make himself useful. He also wanted to keep himself busy; he couldn't stop thinking about Bucky.

"Not that I can think of. Oh, do you know what Winnie and Bucky are doing for Thanksgiving? I thought I might ask them over for dinner. What do you think?"

"I think it's a great idea," Steve said. "I'm not sure what their plans are though. I can text Bucky and find out?"

Sarah got up and washed her mug out at the sink. "That would be great. You know, it's so great to see the two of you together again. You always seem so much happier when he's around."

"Yeah, because you're such a drag." Steve snickered when Sarah threw a dishtowel at him.

"I mean it though. You seem to have found your spark again and I think Bucky has helped with that." Sarah looked at him and Steve couldn't quite read her expression.

He shrugged. "It's...it's been nice. Hanging out with him. But...he's going away after the New Year."

"How do you feel about that?" Sarah asked. Steve thought she already knew the answer somehow.

 _Terrible_ , Steve thought. _Like I just found what I've been looking for and it's slipping out of my hands_.

"I don't know," he said instead.

***

He texted Bucky after lunch, sitting on the kitchen window-seat and watching the leaves fall off of the apple tree.

 **STEVE:** Mom wants to know what you fine Barnes folk are doing for Thanksgiving.

 **BUCKY:** Well, Becca and her family are going to be in Italy - she's got some fancy schmancy art project in Venice - and Dad has something better to do apparently, so we'll be staying here. I think Mom is going to try to convince me to go with her to her book club's pot-luck thing that they're throwing. Please tell me there's a chance I can have dinner with you instead - I'll love you forever.

 **STEVE:** If you bring at least three different kinds of pie, you're in.

 **BUCKY:** I'LL BRING FIVE DIFFERENT KINDS OF PIE. JUST SEE IF I DON'T.

 **STEVE:** Then you're invited Pie Boy :)

 **BUCKY:** Thank you :D Hey, are you up for an early morning adventure with me tomorrow? I can guarantee fun on a moderate scale.

 **STEVE:** Moderate fun? Ooh, please make it sound more exciting.

 **BUCKY** : Fuck you, Rogers :P Do you want to come or not?

 **STEVE:** An adventure full of Moderate Fun with Bucky Barnes? Count me in.

 **BUCKY:** Awesome :) Meet me out front at 5am.

 **STEVE:** 5am??!!!

***

The next morning, Steve bundled himself up in a shirt and sweater, jeans, a heavy duffel coat, boots and a red scarf he found at the back of his closet. It was fucking _freezing_ and he walked around the driveway at 4:55am, waiting for Bucky and trying to stay warm. It was still dark and any sane people were still asleep, his mom included. He heard a low whistle and turned to see Bucky closing his front door quietly. Steve walked across the yard to him.

"This had better be good," Steve said but he was excited. It was nice, just the two of them going somewhere. He didn't care where they ended up.

Bucky grinned. He was dressed similar to Steve which made him think that this wasn't going to be an indoor adventure. He was carrying a bundle under one arm. He jingled his mom's car keys. "Let's get going."

They got into the car and Bucky cranked up the heat and let the engine run for a minute, warming the car up. He handed the bundle he'd been carrying to Steve.

"For me?" Steve asked, turning the package over in his hands. It was wrapped neatly in blue striped paper.

"Just a little gift," Bucky said easily, but Steve could see that he was gripping the steering wheel hard.

Steve opened the present and there was a gorgeous Moleskine planner, the kind he had always used for work. There was also a calculator and a ruler, protractor and set square, the kind a high school student would buy and he smiled.

Steve rubbed his hand gently over the cover of the planner. "What's all this?"

"I couldn't stand the thought of Asshole, Douchebag and Dickwad making you feel like shit back in New York. You were obviously good at your job and you still are by the looks of all the people in town who want to hire you. Don't let them ruin what was a good thing for you."

Steve looked up at Bucky and it was too hard to keep the raw emotion out of his voice. "This is...thank you."

Bucky smiled softly and then seemed to want to say something else but instead pointed at the calculator and rulers. "That was kind of a joke but I figured accountants use those right?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah, they'll come in handy."

"Okay, well let's get moving," Bucky said and they headed off to wherever it was they were going.

***

The sun was starting to rise and they had been on the road for nearly an hour, Bucky still refusing to tell Steve where they were going. They had headed west out of Logansville, the opposite direction to either Scottstown or West McCoy but Steve didn't really care; he was warm and content and smiled as Bucky sang along to the radio, the Moleskine still in his lap.

"Okay, we're nearly there," Bucky said and Steve looked around. They were on a rural road off of the highway and he could see a couple of farms a little way in the distance. They passed a large hand painted sign, the font expertly crafted.

"A farmer's market?" Steve asked with a grin.

Bucky shrugged and smiled back. "I've always wanted to go. Are you disappointed?"

"No, I _like_ farmer's markets."

"Good," Bucky said and he slowed and pulled off into a field where several other cars were parked. The air was brisk when they left the warm cocoon of the car but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Bucky put Steve's gifts in the trunk.

The market was busy for something this early and they walked along the rows, looking at corn, potatoes, fruit - Steve thought most of this had to be out of season now but then again, he knew jack shit about farming. There were cranberries, yams, pumpkins - Thanksgiving food. Everything smelled earthy and natural and Steve breathed it in. He must have made it noticeable because Bucky turned to him with a smile.

"Good, right?"

"Hmm," Steve hummed and stopped at a stall full of flowers, gorgeous bunches arranged in fall colors. "Can we come back here later? I want to buy some for Mom."

Bucky gasped when they saw a pen full of turkeys, gobbling and eating grain and wandering around happily. "Oh wow, look at these guys!"

Bucky gobbled back at them and Steve laughed as a couple of the birds froze and watched them with cocked heads.

"I like their dangly bits," Bucky said.

"I hope you're talking about their wattles," Steve muttered, leaning over the wooden fence.

Bucky snorted and nudged him. "They're so cute."

"I wouldn't get too attached. You know what time of the year it is, right?"

Bucky made a sad noise. "You think we could liberate them?" he asked quietly.

Steve pulled him away from the pen. "I think farmers have a rough enough time of it without having to deal with Turkey Freedom Fighters. Come on."

Bucky waved sadly at the pen. "Bye guys. See you in a couple of weeks, I guess?"

They did a round of the whole market, stopping to look at craft stalls and jars of home-made pickles, jelly and jams; things people had taken the time and care to make themselves, utilizing skills that sadly got overlooked more often than not thanks to mass-production. They had everything here. Steve had forgotten that he could get so much pleasure out of something so simple and he thought that was maybe why Bucky had brought him here; he acted nonchalant and carefree about it but the Moleskine told a different story. There was a consideration in that gift and this trip that went beyond Bucky just passing the time and trying to cheer Steve up.

"Everything okay?" Bucky asked and Steve glanced up. He must have been thinking pretty intensely.

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for bringing me here, Buck. I needed something like this."

Bucky looked pleased. "Mission Accomplished," he said and pointed to a track running alongside some woods. "Let's go for a walk and then we'll come back and buy some stuff."

Steve followed him, happy to make this last as long as he could. The noise from the market receded the further they walked and then Bucky whooped and jumped up a little.

"Oh my God, I have to climb that tree!" He ran over to a huge, gnarled oak and started to scramble up the trunk, grasping onto one of the lower limbs and heaving himself up.

"Be careful, Bucky," Steve called after him, eyeing some of the greyer looking branches. "I think that tree might be sick."

Bucky snorted and walked out onto a branch, holding onto the one above him for balance. "Trees don't get sick, they get climbed!" He walked further out onto the branch.

Steve looked up at him, shielding his eyes as leaves and fragments fell down, dislodged by Bucky's movement. "Just...take it easy. It looks brittle."

"Your face looks brittle - " Bucky began and then there was a loud _snap_ as the branch he was standing on and the branch he'd been holding onto gave way at the same time. He cried out and fell to the ground, landing heavily on his back.

Steve rushed to where Bucky lay sprawled on the ground, not moving. "Bucky? Oh my God, Bucky are you okay?" He touched Bucky's head and tried not to panic.

Bucky's face scrunched up in pain but he still didn't open his eyes. He moaned. "I fell on a rock...right under my ass. It _really_ hurts. I swallowed my bubblegum too."

Steve let out an exasperated breath and sat back on his heels, relieved. "You asshole. I thought you'd really hurt yourself."

Bucky still didn't open his eyes but he smiled. "I'm fine, apart from my butt."

"Well, I'm not kissing it better," Steve said and Bucky broke into a fit of giggles. He had some twigs and leaves stuck in his hair and Steve started to pick them out gently. Then Bucky opened his eyes.

He stared up at Steve, his mouth quirked in a soft grin. Steve was overcome by just how beautiful Bucky was; he was funny and honest and kind and those things were etched on him, in the way he smiled and acted. He was never fake or anything but genuine and Steve wanted him, wanted him so _badly_ that he was sure Bucky could see it on his face. He got to his feet, trying not to hurry, trying to stay calm because he suddenly wanted to cry. Bucky would be out of his life soon and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Steve held out a hand. "Come on, Tarzan. The ground looks damp and there might be horse apples down there."

Bucky laughed and if he'd noticed how Steve had been looking at him, there was no indication of it. He rolled to the side slightly and winced and Steve could see the rock he'd landed on as he pulled him up; it was the size of an orange. "Ow." Bucky rubbed his rump. "That's gonna leave a bruise."

Steve brushed the dirt off of the back of Bucky's coat. "You're sure you aren't seriously hurt?"

"Just my pride," Bucky said and kicked the rock off into the tree line. "That's what I get for trying to show off."

Steve thought he'd gathered himself enough and threw an arm over Bucky's shoulder. "I'll buy you an apple cider and we'll keep your bruised ass between the two of us."

"Can I have a muffin too? One of those pumpkin ones?" Bucky looked at Steve with his huge blue eyes, pleading and mischievous.

Steve sighed. "Yes, you can have a muffin too."

Bucky put his arm around Steve's waist and they walked off down the track, back towards the market. Steve let the different sensations he was experiencing wash over him: Bucky being so close to him and the feeling of his hand gripping him, the cool Autumn air and bright sunshine, the smell of the trees.

He felt alive.

***

Steve bought them cider and muffins and they chatted to the woman running the stall for a little while, asking her about her orchard. Steve got some pickles and jam for his mom as well as a bunch of the Fall-themed flowers. Bucky said goodbye to the turkeys and when he turned away, Steve could see that he was genuinely upset. He reached out and squeezed Bucky's shoulder.

"Hey, they had a good life. They were raised on a nice farm and had everything they could ever want."

Bucky ran a hand through his short chestnut hair. "I know. It's not just that, it's..." He frowned a little and floundered. He shook his head and smiled back up at Steve. "It's nothing. Let's make a move. They'll be packing up soon."

They got into the car and Steve looked at his phone. It was only 9am. Bucky pulled out onto the road and started to drive off towards the highway.

"That was so awesome," Steve said and scooched down in his seat a little to get warm. "How did you find out about that?"

"Saw it advertised in one of the local papers. I just thought it might be something you would like," Bucky glanced at him with a little smile. "Glad I was right."

It was looking set to be a lovely day and the sky was an unbroken blue sheet. They sat in silence for most of the drive back to Logansville, the radio playing quietly. Bucky was less animated than he had been on the way to the market. Steve surreptitiously looked at him every few miles and he seemed to be lost in thought, a tiny crease between his eyes. Steve wondered if he was still thinking about the turkeys.

They got back into Logansville a little after ten. Bucky slowed at an intersection and sat back, scratching his head, that little crease still there.

"Want to get some lunch?" he asked Steve.

"It's a little early for lunch. It's only just gone ten o'clock."

Bucky smiled, more like himself again. "Dude, we were up at five. Sure as hell feels like lunch to me."

Steve raised one eyebrow. "Can we compromise and call it brunch?"

Bucky sniggered. "Whatever you say, Rogers. Brunch it is."

Hill's Diner wasn't too busy and they sat and ate, talking about Thanksgiving and Christmas. Neither of them mentioned the New Year.

Bucky pulled into his driveway a couple of hours later and they retrieved Steve's stuff from the trunk.

"Want to hang out later?" Steve asked as Bucky locked the car and twirled the keys around on one finger.

"I can't tonight, I need to sort out some paperwork for China." He watched Steve when he said it but Steve just smiled. He wondered if it looked fake.

"Cool. I should probably decide on all this accountancy stuff. Although having this kind of makes me want to say yes to everyone." He held up the Moleskine. "Thanks again, for everything."

"You're welcome," Bucky said softly. "We can hang out tomorrow? Maybe watch some bad daytime TV?"

"Sounds good," Steve said. "See you tomorrow."

Bucky held up a hand but his smile was a little less... _Bucky_ this time. He turned and walked to his house, opening the door and heading in without looking back at Steve.

***

Sarah loved her flowers and the pickles and jam. "I've been wanting to hit up that market for ages," she said as she put the flowers in Joe's vase. "What made you two decide to go?"

Steve stirred the spaghetti sauce and checked the pasta as it boiled. "Bucky thought I would like it. It was great; got me out of my own head a little. Maybe next time we could all go." He hoped there would be a next time, before Bucky left.

Sarah leant on the counter next to him and watched as he stirred. "Puttanesca?"

"You know it. Any excuse for those little salty fishies."

Sarah chuckled and started to set the table. "No Bucky for dinner tonight?"

He drained the pasta and shook it into two bowls and then ladled on some sauce. "No, he has some work to sort out. For China."

Sarah sat down. "He's still definitely going?" she asked and Steve couldn't help but detect something in her voice; like she knew something he didn't.

He swallowed. It was starting to hurt more every time he thought about it. "Why would he change his mind now?"

Sarah sprinkled parmesan cheese on her pasta. "You're right. I guess he'd need a pretty big reason to stay. Oh, I saw Tony at the bank today. He's looking better; seemed chirpier too."

Steve was more than happy to change the subject.

***

Bucky knocked at eleven the next morning and he seemed happier and back to his usual enthusiastic self. He followed Steve through to the kitchen where he had been working, the planner Bucky had given him open on the table along with several other pieces of paper with various names and telephone numbers on them.

"Just give me a few minutes. Coffee's just brewed if you want to help yourself."

Bucky made an impressed noise as he poured himself a cup. "So you decided to start working as an accountant again?"

Steve chuffed. "It seemed silly not to. I've already got a client base that would be good to start on and that was just through Tony Stark running his mouth off. I don't know how long it'll be until I can find my own place but I want to earn my keep and help Mom out."

"And because you enjoy it," Bucky said, sitting down next to Steve.

"We'll see," Steve said but he thought he was actually looking forward to it. "I'm just organizing everything and then I guess I'll call everyone and see if they're still happy to have me help them." He squinted at one of the phone numbers. "Ugh, I think I need glasses. My eyes are getting worse and worse."

"I think you would suit glasses," Bucky said. "I can imagine you wearing a pair like Atticus Finch."

"Atticus Finch was a lawyer, not an accountant!"

Bucky waved his hands. "Whatever! You'd look good in glasses is all I'm saying. Unless you want contact lenses instead."

Steve grimaced. "And poke myself in the eyes on a daily basis? No thanks."

Bucky smirked and took a sip of coffee. "I found a TV station that's playing nothing but As The World Turns."

"I can think of no better way to spend my day," Steve said and finished up.

They watched TV for the next three hours; laughing at the acting and storylines in As The World Turns. Steve was enjoying himself and let the fun of hanging out with Bucky override the ache that had settled permanently in his chest. They had foregone eating any kind of decent lunch and made their way through several bags of snacks instead.

"I need a drink. Want one?" Steve asked Bucky and nudged him with his foot.

"Sounds good," Bucky said and watched Steve as he left the room.

Steve sighed softly and rubbed his forehead when he was in the kitchen; he was about to open the fridge and grab a couple of sodas when Bucky grasped his arm gently, making him jump - Steve hadn't even heard him follow. He was close and his face was a knot of nervousness and hesitation, his usual humor and cockiness gone now.

"Buck?" Steve asked.

"Tell me I'm reading this all wrong," he said softly and before Steve could do anything, Bucky leaned in and kissed him on the lips, just a small cautious kiss before he pulled back and eyed Steve, his throat working up and down.

Steve shook his head. "You're not," he said and his voice was low and scratchy.

He surged back into Bucky, tasting his lips, making a small desperate noise. It had been so long since he'd kissed anyone, just _touched_ anyone like this. Bucky kissed him back with equal fervor, his hands in Steve's hair. Steve was struck with how familiar this felt, how they had kissed all those years ago. It had been different back then, just two boys nervously practicing for the first time although, and he hadn't realized it fully until years later, that had been a turning point for Steve in accepting his own sexuality. But now there was passion and _need_ in the kiss and Steve held on to Bucky, elated that this was happening and that Bucky wanted him in the same way, but doing everything he could not to let go, as if Bucky would leave for the other side of the world as soon as he did.

Bucky finally drew away, breathless and pulled Steve to him in a tight hug, one hand still in Steve's hair. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist and buried his face in Bucky's shoulder.

"This is the worst possible time for something like this to happen," Bucky tried to joke, but Steve could hear the sorrow in his voice. "Why'd we have to go and find each other again _now_? And like this?"

"I know," Steve said and he didn't try to hide how he felt this time, his voice broken and shattered.

"I came back here thinking that this was just going to be some waiting game until I left but then you were in that stupid treehouse and...I never expected this."

Steve raised his head and smiled. "Me either. Buck, if I hadn't found you again...things would have been so much harder. You don't know what you've done for me."

"Steve, I'm nothing special..."

Steve kissed him again, his thumb rubbing gently against Bucky's neck. "You are," he said, drawing back. "You are."

Bucky sighed, his eyes melancholy. "So what do we do now?"

Steve gently brushed a hand through Bucky's hair, enjoying how his eyes fluttered closed at the touch. "Make the most of it, I guess."

***

Sarah came home from work a few hours later and found them sprawled on the couch watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Bucky was lying against Steve, holding Steve's arms around him. They both looked up as the front door opened but made no move to disentangle themselves. Steve had a feeling that Sarah wouldn't be surprised.

"Well, it's good to see that you boys have had what looks to be a productive day," she said as she eyed the mess of chip bags and soda cans on the coffee table.

"We've been expanding our minds with terrible TV," Bucky said and Steve snorted.

Sarah shook her head and shrugged off her coat. "I was thinking fish tacos for dinner. Are you staying, Bucky?"

"If that's okay?" Bucky answered and accidentally elbowed Steve in the gut as he struggled to sit up.

"Sure it is. Your mom doesn't mind you not going home for dinner though? You're over here more often than not." She flashed Steve a knowing look as Bucky rubbed his eyes. Steve just offered a shy smile in return.

Bucky stood up and stretched. "She's out more than I am these days. She's very much in demand by the women's groups in Logansville. I can put in a good word if you think you might want - "

Sarah laughed and held up a hand. "I'm flattered but no thanks. Steve'll tell you that I've always enjoyed my own company."

"She's a lone wolf," Steve said.

Bucky cocked a thumb at the front door. "Actually, I will just head back for a second and let Mom know what I've been up to. I can out help with dinner if you hang on?"

Sarah flapped a hand at him. "I actually enjoy cooking for more people than just myself so don't worry about that."

Steve walked Bucky to the door. "You might as well come in through the kitchen when you come back."

"Okay," Bucky said and grabbed the back of Steve's neck, kissing him quickly. He smiled and closed the front door behind him.

Steve could feel the blush on his face and turned to tidy the coffee table. Sarah sat down in the armchair to take her shoes off.

"Well," she said.

"Well," Steve echoed. He crumpled the chip packets and soda cans nervously in his hands.

Sarah rose and hugged him tight. "I'm happy for you, Stevie."

Steve closed his eyes and hugged her back. "Thanks Mom."

They walked through into the kitchen and Sarah started to root around in the freezer. Steve stood against the kitchen sink, his hands tucked under his arms.

"I...I don't know what to think," Steve admitted. "He's leaving in the New Year."

Sarah tossed a bag of fish onto the counter and put her hands on her hips. "So talk to him about it. You care about him, right?"

Steve nodded. "A lot. More...more than I thought possible."

"Steve, life's too short to waste time thinking about things like this instead of just going for it. I found that out the hard way when your father died."

"I know," Steve said softly. "It's his life, his decision. I can't ask him to give it all up."

Sarah looked pained. "But it's your life too."

Steve was about to answer when Bucky knocked on the kitchen door. He came in holding a bottle of white wine. "Mom says hi and apparently this goes really well with fish, even in taco form."

Sarah giggled and took the bottle, putting it in the fridge to chill. "Thank you."

Bucky walked over to Steve and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Steve smiled at him. He didn't want to make Bucky leaving real so he ignored it, brought Bucky's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles instead.

***

Steve knew he should have been enjoying his time with Bucky but the next couple of weeks were like a ticking clock for him. They spent every moment they could together; Steve had officially taken on some clients, his confidence growing, and had more of a working routine but they were never far apart. Steve knew he should just enjoy the time they spent making dinner and laughing together, enjoy running in the early mornings out to the Barton Farm, cherish the evenings after Sarah or Winnie had gone to bed and they lay wrapped up in one another, kissing and touching. He knew he should be enjoying what he had with Bucky for what it was but all he could think about was the end: New Years and Bucky's departure. Steve didn't bring it up and neither did Bucky.

The time seemed to be passing quickly; it was Thanksgiving all too soon. Bucky had compromised with his mom to have Thanksgiving breakfast with her before she went out with her book group and Bucky went to the Rogers's for dinner. Steve helped Sarah out in the kitchen before she eventually told him that there was nothing more to be done and they both went to get ready. They had decided to make an effort and dress up.

Steve put on his navy shirt with a navy tie and some black trousers. He was fussing over his hair when he heard Bucky's knock at the front door, his stomach fluttering.

"I'll get it!" he called to Sarah and bounded down the stairs. He couldn't deny that seeing Bucky made him feel like running through walls.

Steve smiled wide when he opened the door; Bucky had managed to tidy his usually slightly scruffy hair and was wearing a white shirt, black tie, black v-neck sweater and a pair of dark jeans. He had a huge bouquet of flowers tucked in the crook of his arm and a pile of boxes balanced in his other hand. His eyes widened when he saw Steve and he made a show of looking him up and down.

"Holy crap, you scrub up good. Be still my throbbing member."

Steve rolled his eyes but felt his face heat up anyway. "Are you coming in or are you going to stand there like a letch all evening?"

"Thinking I might just letch it up. Screw dinner, I know what I want to eat instead." He waggled his eyebrows.

Steve pulled Bucky in through the door and laughed. "If that's the extent of your sweet talk then I'm in trouble for sure." He closed the door and moved close to Bucky. "You look really nice." They kissed softly.

"Thank you," Bucky said, still carrying the flowers and boxes. He rubbed his nose against Steve's. "You look gorgeous. Honestly."

Steve smiled. "Thank you too. What's in the boxes?"

Bucky walked through to the kitchen and placed them on the table. He rested the flowers on the counter. "Pies."

"You actually bought _five_ pies?" Steve asked with a chuckle.

"I said I would, didn't I? I got cherry, pumpkin, peach, apple and chicken pot - I couldn't find any other fruit ones."

Steve threw back his head and laughed. "I don't think anyone else has ever made me laugh as much as you do."

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's neck. "I'd be happy to do it as for as long as you wanted me to."

Steve almost said it. _Please don't go_. He looked at Bucky and took a breath but Sarah walked in then and screeched with delight.

"Look at you two! You both look so handsome." She kissed Bucky on the cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving, Bucky."

"You look amazing," Bucky said and handed Sarah the flowers with a flourish. "Pretty flowers for a pretty lady in a blue dress."

Steve smiled. "You look great, Mom."

They set the table and got the food ready, talking and laughing and everything was warm and cozy. It was all Steve had ever wanted and as he watched Bucky, leaning against the kitchen counter with a glass of wine, talking to Sarah and making her giggle, Steve almost - for a split-second - wished he had never come back here. Because it almost hurt too much.

***

They ate more than they should have and drank way too much and by 9pm were all half-asleep in the living room, watching Mrs. Doubtfire, too tired to even change the channel. Bucky was snuggled against Steve, dozing as Steve played with his hair. He glanced up at one point and Sarah was watching them, a sad smile on her face. He looked down at Bucky and kissed the top of his head, turning his attention back to the movie and trying not to think about anything else.

***

Bucky draped himself over Steve as he tried to work at the kitchen table. November had turned into December and with it had come snow, almost instantly as if it had been waiting for the calendar to flip over.

"Bucky, can you just give me _three_ minutes to finish this please? That's all I ask." He tried to ignore Bucky's warm breath against his ear and tapped his paperwork with his pen.

"But I want you now," Bucky whined. He moved away though and thunked into one of the other kitchen chairs. "Mom's away at a spa with her buddies; want to come over for dinner and movies later?"

"Sure," Steve said and smiled as Bucky's foot rubbed his under the table. "Every time you distract me, it adds another minute to my work."

Bucky made a loud noise of protest and rested his head in his hands. They sat in silence as Steve worked.

"I need to head into Scottstown at some point to get some stuff for China. I've been putting it off but I need to get it done before Christmas. Want to come with me?" Bucky said when Steve finally put his pen down and rubbed his eyes.

Steve felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Even though they hadn't talked about it, Steve had been under no illusions that Bucky would suddenly change his mind but it still hurt him to have it confirmed. He tried to remain indifferent.

"It depends when you want to go. Work's getting busier - I might not be able to."

Bucky seemed to be gauging his answer, looking him in the eyes. "It's no biggie. If you can't go, you can't go."

Steve forced a smile. "I'll see."

***

That evening, they were very much not watching whatever movie it was they put on. In fact, whatever movie it was that they had been attempting to watch was over and Netflix was back on the menu screen. Steve had somehow ended up on his back with Bucky on top of him, kissing lazily. Steve had his hands up the back of Bucky's hoodie, softly tracing his back. He wanted this to last forever. He didn't want to think about tomorrow or three weeks from now when the countdown would finally reach zero. He just wanted to stay here with Bucky pressed against him, his lips hot and wet on his neck and his jaw.

Bucky pulled away and stared down at him with the same searching look he'd given Steve earlier.

"Everything okay?" Steve breathed, his hand gently stroking the back of Bucky's neck.

Bucky's eyes looked desperate for a second and then he was kissing Steve again, harder this time, on his mouth, his jaw, biting at his neck. His voice was almost inaudible in Steve's ear.

"Take me to bed."

Steve clutched Bucky to him. "Whatever you want."

It was soft and slow; they undressed each other and didn't turn on Bucky's bedroom lamp - the snow outside cast a pale light through the window and it was almost unreal, eerily still. They moaned quietly and whispered, almost as if the two of them were afraid to break some spell if they became too loud. Steve held Bucky to him and moved with him, concentrating on Bucky's slick skin, the muted noises he made, how his hands touched Steve all over. He didn't want the countdown to reach zero, not now.

***

Steve watched as the snow fell outside, Bucky's face nestled into his neck, blowing warm sleep breaths against his skin. His feet were cold against Steve's.

Steve's mind was blank; he realized he had finally accepted that Bucky was leaving. Tonight had felt like goodbye. So he just lay there, running his hand softly up and down Bucky's chest under the covers.

Maybe an hour passed and Bucky shifted, his arm snaking across Steve's body. Steve kissed his forehead.

"You're awake," Bucky mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Yeah. Can't sleep."

Bucky raised his head. "Is everything alright? Was...was last night not good?" Steve had never heard him sound so unsure before.

Steve pulled him closer. "No, no. It was...Buck, it was perfect. I just can't sleep, that's all." He kissed Bucky on the lips.

They lay together for a long time and Steve thought Bucky had fallen back asleep but then he spoke.

"You would talk to me if anything was bothering you?"

Steve was quiet for a beat too long. "Of course I would."

***

It seemed a little easier after that night. Steve let go and made the most of being with Bucky while he still had time. They walked into town one afternoon and had a snowball fight, getting carried away and too competitive and by the time they reached Main Street, were both wet and cold and huddled together in Hill's Diner with as much hot tea as they could drink.

A week after they slept together, Steve screwed up.

Sarah was at her work Christmas dinner and it was like any other evening they had spent together; they were both on the couch, Steve's arm around Bucky's shoulders, both laughing at Impractical Jokers and whether they would have the guts to do some of the things they did.

"Oh, did you still want to go shopping?" Steve asked.

"Christmas shopping? I already got everything, remember?"

"No, I meant for China. We could go into Scottstown tomorrow."

Steve felt Bucky stiffen slightly next to him. "Uh, fine. Why not." His voice was flat.

Steve wasn't sure what he had said wrong. Bucky had brought this up last week. "It doesn't have to be tomorrow, we could go Thursday instead."

Bucky was quiet for a moment and then stood up. "I think I'm going to head home. I'm kind of tired."

Steve stood with him. "Oh...okay." He was confused; all he'd mentioned was going shopping.

Bucky threw his jacket on, his face hard and blank. "See you tomorrow."

Steve grabbed Bucky's arm. "Hey, what's wrong? Come on, Buck, what did I do?"

"No, everything's fine. You're right - I should go shopping for China. I mean, I'm leaving in two weeks." He watched Steve with burning eyes.

"That's...that's why I suggested it. You don't want to put it off for too long." Steve hated hearing himself say those words.

Bucky gave a bitter laugh and looked down at the floor.

Steve was growing frantic. "Buck - "

"Steve, why did we sleep together?"

Steve blinked in surprise. "I...what?"

Bucky folded his arms. "Why do you think we slept together?"

Steve swallowed. "To say goodbye."

Bucky's face crumpled in hurt. "You...you think _that's_ why I wanted to sleep with you?"

"Well, isn't it? You're leaving and - " It was almost on his tongue to say _and I don't want you to_ but Bucky was already out of the front door, slamming it hard in Steve's face.

It took Steve a couple of seconds to react and then he was out of the door, in just his socks and running after Bucky across their yards.

"Bucky, wait!" he shouted but Bucky was already in his own house and had locked the door. Steve pounded on it for a few minutes, shouting for Bucky but there was no answer. He ran around to the back of the house, slipping on the porch and hurting his elbow against the swing. He tried the back door but it was locked too.

Steve shivered for a moment before walking back to his own house, feeling cold and sick.

***

He was in bed before Sarah got home, not wanting to tell her what had happened because it would have been plain on his face to see that something was wrong. He couldn't sleep. He had fucked everything up. Bucky was angry and hurt and he had been lying to himself thinking that he could be okay with Bucky leaving Logansville. He wasn't okay, not by a long shot.

Steve was considering going downstairs to watch TV at 3am instead of lying here and festering in his own head when a text came through. He sat up in the dark and looked at his phone.

 **BUCKY:** Treehouse now

Steve got out of bed and looked out of the window; there were a set of footprints in the snow leading from Bucky's yard to the treehouse. He pulled on his jeans and threw on a sweater before padding quietly downstairs and putting on his boots and coat. He opened the back door and went into the yard, walking in Bucky's footprints to the treehouse.

When he climbed up, Bucky was huddled in the corner in his coat and hoodie. Steve could see enough of his face in the dim light to see that he was still angry.

"You're a dick," Bucky said quietly.

Steve didn't say anything.

"You're a dick if you think the reason I slept with you was so I could get my rocks off before I left the country."

"Buck, I didn't mean it like that - "

"Steve, just shut up will you? Just..." Bucky sat up. "You're also a dick if you think that I'm still considering going after everything that's happened between us. You're also a dick for making me think that you were fine about letting me go."

"Bucky..."

"You made me feel like you _wanted_ me to leave."

Steve was crushed. "No, no I didn't mean that at all. I wanted...to be supportive. I didn't want to get in the way..."

Bucky laughed and although there was no humor in it, there was no meanness either. "Get in the way? Steve, I came back here to ride out a couple of months before heading off into something I wasn't sure I wanted to do in the first place. I never expected to fall in love."

Steve was stunned and elated but he didn't know what to do with either of the feelings. "But...you never said anything. I thought you still wanted to go."

"You never said anything either," Bucky said quietly. "I kept expecting you to ask me to stay and I would have said yes in a heartbeat. Why didn't you?"

"Because..." Steve floundered. All the reasons he had talked himself into now seemed ridiculous.

"I slept with you because I'm in love with you," Bucky said, his voice low. "I thought you slept with me because you were in love with me too."

Steve moved forward and pulled Bucky to him. "I'm in love with you, so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Bucky laughed again and this time it was happy. He moved and held Steve at arms length. "Do you want me to stay?"

"I only want what you want..."

"Do _you_ want me to stay?" Bucky asked again, his hands warm on Steve's neck and face.

"Buck, this isn't my choice. It's your life, your career. I can't - "

Bucky hissed angrily and shook him slightly. "Goddammit Rogers, can't you be selfish for once in your fucking life? Stop thinking about everyone else! What do _you_ want? Tell me the truth! Tell me what you want!"

"I want you to stay!" Steve said loudly. "I feel so cheated that we met again and now you're leaving. I love you. I want you here with me." Steve's voice broke. "It might work between us, it might not but...I don't want you to go without knowing. I don't want you to go."

Bucky leaned in and kissed him. It was hot and desperate and Steve kissed him back, clutching Bucky tightly.

Bucky pulled away and he was smiling. "Then I won't go."

"Just like that?" Steve asked, and grinned against Bucky's lips.

"The longer I spent with you, the more I considered staying. I just needed to know...that you wanted me to stay, too."

Steve brushed Bucky's cheek with his hand. "I want you to stay. I want you to stay more than I've ever wanted anything in my whole life."

"I never in a million years thought I would end up back in this treehouse, out of my head in love with little Stevie Rogers," Bucky said and chased Steve's lips with his own again.

"Not so little anymore," Steve mumbled, happier than anything.

"Don't I know it," Bucky growled and laughed when Steve jabbed him in the ribs.

***

Steve and Sarah spent Christmas in Iowa and Bucky and Winnie went to Astoria. Steve didn't mind because when he came back, Bucky would be there. He was looking forward to the New Year and his new life. Steve's client base was picking up steadily and he thought that he might actually be able to make a go of it in Logansville. More than that, he was happy.

He took Tony on as a client and went into the hardware store every week to help him with his books until he was confident enough to do it himself, or at least hire someone who could do it for him full-time.

"Business has really picked up; I've been able to give everyone a raise - only a small one - and I'm training Pietro to be assistant manager. I looked into those loans you told me about too and I think I want to see what I can do here." Tony was smartly dressed and seemed less snarky. People in the town were slowly starting to see him as his own person and not just as Howard's Son.

"I'm really pleased, Tony," Steve said. He gathered his planner and some papers and put them in his work satchel. "You're getting better with QuickBooks too. You'll be a pro in no time."

Tony chuckled and walked Steve out of the store. "Oh, I uh...I called Rhodey," he said when they were outside.

"Oh yeah?" Steve asked with a smile.

Tony nodded and looked down. "We're talking. It's a start."

Bucky's plans weren't derailed too much by his decision not to go to China; the ELT company were annoyed that he had left it so late to turn them down but he just shrugged when he got off of the phone with them and wrestled Steve onto the couch.

"What did they say?" Steve asked, pinning Bucky's arms to his sides and nuzzling his neck.

"They were a little mad," Bucky said, "but I don't care. Look what I've got instead of China." He kissed Steve and unpinned his arms, sliding them around Steve's neck.

"What are you going to do? I don't think you'll get much use out of a Mechanical Engineering Masters in Logansville."

"Hey, you never know. Besides, I like it here. I think there are worse things than living a simple life in a small town."

Steve beamed and Bucky pulled him down on top of him. "Having a hot boyfriend also helps."

Bucky seemed to integrate well into small town life when it was decided that he was staying. He scoured the internet and the papers for work and managed to get a job at a small garage just outside of town. Frank Castle was an intense, scary man not all that keen on the idea of hiring another mechanic but when he saw how fast Bucky could strip an engine and put it back together again, he grudgingly offered him a position.

"I already said yes," he barked when Bucky started to talk about how he could help double Frank's client base, cutting him off mid-speak. "You can start Monday. Now get out of here."

And then they got on with their lives. Steve knew it would still be a while before they could even consider thinking about getting their own place but he liked living at home and Sarah was so happy that he was staying in town indefinitely that she burst into tears. She couldn't have been happier that Steve and Bucky were in love.

As Winter finally gave way to Spring, Steve realized that he'd never been happier living a modest life in the town where he had been born and had fallen in love.

He was home.

***

Steve led Bucky into the small retail space, pocketing the keys as he did. It was a mild day in late May. Bucky was on his lunch break, a smudge of grease on his nose.

"Okay, so just imagine a desk here for my assistant - " Steve waved a hand at an area near the door.

"Receptionist, you mean..." Bucky said from behind him, looking at a loose lighting fixture on the ceiling.

"No, my _assistant_ and my desk will be back there. I've talked to some contractors about putting in some drywall so I can have a private office - no window but that doesn't matter right now - and there's a small kitchen and bathroom out back. The rent's not terrible and I know it's small and needs some work but it's in a great location..."

Bucky twisted behind Steve and wrapped his arms around his middle, kissing him behind the ear. "Stevie, it's awesome. You've worked hard for this and I know you'll do great things. I'm really proud of you."

Steve smiled and threaded his fingers through Bucky's. "Thanks Buck."

"You know, you could totally go all Saul Goodman with your office: Have some gnarly looking pillars put in, paint quotes across the walls in one of those curly fonts..."

"Saul Goodman's a lawyer, not an accountant. What is it with you and confusing the two?"

"Whatever," Bucky laughed and leaned against the wall. "Have you thought of a business name yet?"

"Probably just S.G Rogers. I want to keep it simple."

"How about Hot Buns Ltd?" Bucky asked.

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, absolutely not."

"I think it has a nice ring to it," Bucky said and slid his hands from Steve's waist to his backside. "You haven't shown me out back yet..." he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Steve grinned and leaned back, locking the door. "Isn't your lunch break nearly over? Won't Frank be pissed if you're late?"

"Nah, Frank's a pussy cat. Besides, I stayed late last night. I can wangle an extra twenty minutes."

Steve grabbed Bucky's hand and led him to the door at the back. "What else can you wangle?"

Bucky's laughter echoed through the small space.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this!


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